Harry Potter and the Rebellion of the Dark
by MaraudersPride
Summary: (Don’t let the description be a spoiler!) Harry Potter finds out about the path that Albus Dumbledore laid out for him, and schemes right back to give the old man what he deserved.
1. The Real Start

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England: July 24, 1996, 1500 hrs.

Harry Potter was sitting on a couch in the comfortable home, the Burrow, reading the newspaper that fit perfectly with his cup of hot cocoa. Smiling to himself, he knew that the Ministry was well aware of Voldemort's return and Fudge had almost resigned immediately. With Amelia Bones's home found raided, probably by Voldemort's Death Eaters, she was instantly transferred to a safer location inside the Ministry of Magic.

The best part about it? Apparently, Sirius had been found laying inside his home at Grimmauld Place. Nobody knew how, also, Harry saw Sirius fall through the Veil, but the old Marauder had his way.

Harry was half-expecting Sirius to visit him in the Burrow. His hearing would take place the next day. Harry understood that with Death Eaters on the loose, Sirius could be found and tortured for Harry's location. But he still missed his godfather. He had to visit Grimmauld Place very soon, as much as he loathed the old place with the eerie decorations.

Harry's happiness wouldn't be touched. The vile toad, a filthy excuse for a teacher and a waste of space, Dolores Umbridge, would also have her trial shortly after Sirius's hearing. He was needed at Sirius's trial to give the testimony for Sirius's emancipation. Harry would have to stay as the witness for Umbridge's trial, but as long as the woman got what she deserved, he was going to do it.

Harry, at the corner of his eyes, noticed Fleur walking down from the second floor. She looked angry, and Harry had a negative vibe about it, but he still had yet to confirm his suspicions.

"Fleur, what gave you that face?" He asked the blonde-haired Veela. He knew her power to accidentally let slip from her control when she felt extreme emotions. It was strange, but he was resistant to her powers, whether it was kept to a minimum or at full blast. Speaking of resistance, Ron, who was nearby, immediately dropped his mug and stared at her off-limits area. Harry swatted Ron's arm to show respect for the older girl, but this did not shake the boy off his daze and stood up to walk to Fleur.

"Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry, knowing that underage wizards can use magic in Wizarding homes, cast an Aguamenti at his red-headed friend.

"Huh—wuzzgoinon?" The redhead muttered stupidly, then took off his clothes, still in a daze, and wrung them and stalked off the living room.

"Sorry about him," Harry said sheepishly. "I've been trying to tell him to at least try to resist it, even a little bit, but I guess people just wouldn't budge sometimes."

Fleur nodded. "So I guess I'll have to get used to the idiot drooling every time I walk into the room?" She asked.

"From the way he's going, I'm afraid you're going to have to do that," he admitted. "Speaking of that, what made you so angry that your control accidentally slipped?"

"Do you know that other redhead witch? I think her name was Ginevra?"

Harry nodded. "Ginevra Molly Weasley. The most rabid Boy-Who-Lived fangirl. Yes, I know her indeed. But that doesn't mean I like her too," he replied simply.

Fleur thought about that. She thought that Harry liked Ginny too. Well, until now. She knew now that Harry had zero interest in Ginny Weasley. She could take her next step, which involved trying to slowly gain control over Harry. Now that she knew that he would give her sympathy every time she claimed that Ginny had insulted her behind her back. Yes, it would be easier.

Slowly she made a step towards Harry, who rose up and grabbed his mug with him. The young wizard made a dash for the kitchen, almost dropping the mug on the way.

Harry caught his breath and finally stopped to think about what happened in the living room.

Fleur had tried to kiss him. The same girl who was supposedly engaged with his best friend's oldest brother, Bill. Why would she do that? Surely there was a reason behind it, the French girl would not just do that because she wanted to.

"Harry, why do you look out of breath?" He looked for the source of the voice.

"Sirius!" The old man was looking worried. Harry smiled the grin he reserved for the ones he loved. For some reason, Sirius looked happier than usual, and Harry had yet to ask why. He knew and understood that Sirius had never had any partner before, and after his hopefully successful trial, he would finally get the love that he so deserved.

"I'm okay, pup. You're so excited for my hearing tomorrow, I can see it in your eyes." Sirius patted Harry's unruly hair and ruffled it. "You look so much like James. Yet you have your mother's—"

"Eyes," Harry offered.

"No, Harry, not just Lily's eyes. You have her personality. In fact, she also reminds me of that best friend of yours, Hermione," the older man said. "Which reminds me, is she still just your best friend? Or am I sensing a developing relationship?" Sirius teased Harry, who turned so red his face could rival the Weasleys' hair.

"I see," Sirius laughed. "You are, but you don't realize it. Yet."

"What?" Harry protested. "But she's just my best friend! Best friend!"

Sirius shook his head. "I see that's your sensitive part. Hermione Granger soon-to-be Potter. You do realize you're gonna end up together, don't you?"

Harry started to cry. "She's just my best friend. You've got to understand that."

Sirius just laughed at him. Why was he making fun of Harry? He was like tormenting him. He hadn't known Sirius to do this to him. There was obviously something very wrong, and Harry wasn't up to it.

"I'll show you something tomorrow. Make sure to thank me when you see what it is."

"Does this have anything to do with Hermione?"

"No, but you'll love it." With those words Sirius went to the fireplace and went back to his house by Floo.

Shaking his head, Harry felt a headache coming quickly, and headed upstairs to the room he and Ron shared. Said friend was looking pissed. Harry knew he was to blame for Ron's wet clothes, but he did it so that Ron wouldn't embarrass himself in front of Fleur. Also, everybody knew that Bill could come anytime and gut his brother if caught flirting with his fiancée.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, but deep down he knew that Ron was not fine. After being wet by his own best friend, who would be fine?

"Does it look like I'm fine?" Ron stared into nothingness. "I embarrassed myself for the second time in front of a bloody Veela, mate. How could I be fine?"

The black-haired wizard slowly stepped towards his best friend and cast a Scourgify at Ron's clothes. "There, there, buddy. Poor boy..."

Hermione barged into the door.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?"

"Can you believe it, Harry? They adjusted the time for Umbridge's trial; it will be held at Courtroom 5 at the same time of Sirius's hearing. Do you know what this means?" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"I know exactly what this means," Harry said. "It's the real start of a war."

Hermione shook her head at Harry. "Is that really how you interpret it?"

Harry looked straight at Hermione's eyes. "Hermione, this is not a coincidence. I mean, how many adjusted hearings have you heard of? Only when the accused is being targeted. Like me before fifth year. Fudge adjusted the time of my hearing so he could call me 'late' and 'without manners'. Those politicians are so clichéd. Don't they think I know what they're planning? They are making me choose between two things, either to attend Sirius's hearing, which would set Umbridge free, or that I attend Umbridge's hearing, and they put Sirius back to Azkaban! They exploited my weakness!"

Hermione looked at her friend with sympathy. She knew he loved Sirius as his own dad, and would do anything to rescue him, like what happened at the Ministry a month ago. As if acting on impulse, she brainstormed solutions on how to make the conflicting schedules work, while cursing the man who changed it.

A certain Chief Warlock, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Nobody knew that Hermione would think that fast. She perked up after half an hour and immediately looked for Harry. She found him doing the Potions essay Snape had given him.

"Harry? I found a solution," Hermione stated happily.

"Huh? Uh, okay?" He replied dumbly.

"You're familiar with a camera, aren't you?" She asked him.

Harry heard about those devices; the Dursleys always made sure that Dudley got a new one every year. Also, he remembered the Muggle-born Colin Creevey and the pictures he took of Harry.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Good," she said. "Because you're gonna need it."

"How exactly?" Harry decided to ask.

"I'm going to snap a picture of the scar Umbridge forced you to write on your skin," she stated matter-of-factly. "Then I'll press charges of Illegal Possession of a Blood Quill to her, hopefully earning her a lifetime in Azkaban."

"That's actually a great idea," Harry said, amazed. "When would you run out of good solutions?"

Hermione blushed at the compliment. "I just got lucky, and I guess, adrenaline rush."

"Are you really that worried for Sirius as much as I am?" He questioned, still not believing Hermione could care for Sirius as much as he did.

"Of course," she said proudly.

"Thank you."

"Sure," Hermione blushed, but not enough for Harry to notice. "I think I brought a camera when I went here. Let me see..."

She shoved her hands inside her trunk and looked around for it, while Harry sat down, imagining Umbridge's face when she gets sentenced to Azkaban. Now, Harry wasn't and never will be a sadist, but he would love to see the toad getting sacked and permanently having to live in Sirius's old place.

"Aha!" Hermione found what she was looking for and pulled it out. It certainly looked better than Colin's, not that he cared anyway.

"Here," Hermione made some adjustments to the lens of the camera. "Show your backhand to the lens and smile at it. Show it off like you just won the Quidditch Cup."

"Certainly," Harry smiled and showed his backhand to the camera and Hermione clicked the shutter.

"Now, did I mention that I spelled this camera to print out developed photos?"

Harry shook his head 'no', and said, "That's a great help for tomorrow."

"It is," Hermione agreed. "Remember those intercepted letters?" Harry nodded, so Hermione continued, "I'll show them in front of the court for all to see. And one bang of a gavel, one problem solved."

"That's a really genius plan, no kidding," Harry laughed. "You know I don't joke about your abilities."

Hermione blushed once more, but she was thankful that Harry didn't seem to notice. She gave him a thumbs-up and headed down to the kitchen for a couple of slices of cake that Mrs. Weasley prepared for Harry, since his birthday was only a week away.

Harry also headed downstairs for his mug of cocoa, carefully avoiding any blonde Veelas.


	2. Contracts and Warnings

The Burrow, St. Ottery Catchpole, England: July 25, 1996, 700 hrs.

Harry took a sip of his tea while waiting for Sirius. Mrs. Weasley kept insisting that he eat breakfast to calm himself and keep the hysterics under control, but Harry could be stubborn sometimes and politely refused the offer.

It was a gloomy day. Light rain was pouring outside, and the temperature dropped drastically. Harry guessed it was the morning coldness.

How about the dread he felt in his stomach? He trusted Hermione. He trusted that she would do alright in Umbridge's trial, but judging from the Muggle-born prejudice, things might go to the dogs.

One thing he had to get used to knowing, though, was that Hermione would always have a backup plan if her original failed. Using this thought as reassurance, he looked forward to the moment Sirius could live a free life, and at the same time avenge Cedric. If he knew Amelia Bones, she would immediately send Aurors to hunt down Pettigrew.

He barely heard the feet that were descending from the stairs of the Burrow. Barely looking away for a sign of Sirius, Harry said, "Good morning, Hermione."

He promptly went back to blankly staring at the now-moistened window. Great, he thought to himself sarcastically. Now I'm stuck to waiting here.

"Are you excited?" She asked him suddenly. There was no denying that he was looking forward to Sirius's freedom, but he had that sinking feeling that something even bigger than Voldemort would emerge from the shadows.

Now that he thought about it, he realized that Hermione did more to him than he could ever ask of her. She risked her life just so she could research more about the Basilisk. She helped him save Sirius using the Time-Turner. She helped him in the Triwizard Tournament. She helped him in their O.W.L.s. She helped him in rescuing Sirius (which turned out to be a fake vision), and took a curse from Dolohov. Now she was risking being judged as a 'Mudblood', most likely, but there was a ninety-nine percent chance of that happening, just so he could be present at his godfather's trial.

Today was the day, he would change. Today was the day, he would care more about her. He knew to himself that he valued Ron more as a friend, that he thought Hermione was only second-best, and today was the day he would prioritize her in his life. Strangely enough, today was the day he would come to love her more than a friend.

Courtrooms, Ministry of Magic, London, England: July 25, 1996, 1000 hrs.

"How did it go?" Harry said as he saw Hermione go down the corridor. She was looking a bit pleased, which Harry took as a good sign. The next good sign was the sound he heard from Dolores Umbridge as she was dragged away from the Aurors.

"Potter, please! Tell them I did not torture you! Tell them I did not use a Blood Quill on you! Tell them!"

Harry smirked at her helpless state. "I'm truly sorry, Dolores, but I mustn't tell lies." With those words the Aurors Disapparated with her, hopefully to Azkaban. Harry had no idea what the Dementors' reaction would be to seeing her, though.

"Good news, my friend, they listened to a Muggle-born in court. Strange, yes it was, Dumbledore was contradicting me constantly," Hermione stated.

"Wait..." Harry paused, narrowing his eyes. "Wasn't he also affected by Umbridge while she reigned at Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Exactly! I don't see why he would not be opposed to the toad. Clearly something's very wrong, maybe I just don't see it yet..."

In the corner of his eyes, Harry thought he saw a tabby cat jump onto one of the chairs. He shook his head, deciding it was just an illusion.

What surprised him wasn't the fact that it was actually Professor McGonagall, but the warning she gave him.

"Potter, Granger, have you any idea what a marriage contract is?" McGonagall said sternly, but Harry could sense pity in her voice.

Hermione responded immediately. "Marriage contracts are agreements from two sides, usually old families, to intermarry, usually signifying allegiance to one House. The contract can be made by the parents or magical guardian of the individual. What about them, Professor?"

McGonagall nodded. "I have to show you something, and I'm sure you won't like it. Are you familiar with Apparition?"

"Yes," Harry and Hermione said.

"Let's go then," McGonagall said, taking each of their hands and Apparating to The Leaky Cauldron. Harry felt as though his entire physical body was being forcibly squeezed into a rubber tube, and that rubber tube wasn't that big, either. It was like Portkey, but a little disorienting, and vomit-inducing.

"I don't think you liked the sensation, Potter," McGonagall noted. "Do you even read your books? I vaguely remember taking those lessons when I was a student."

Harry shook his head. "It's my relatives, Professor."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "What might your relatives have in connection to your reading habits?"

"They hid my school supplies every summer. I was barely able to sneak out of the cupboard with my Potions homework last summer," Harry said. "Professor."

The elderly witch shook her head. She knew that Dumbledore's move would have repercussions, and now, one of her cubs' home studying was affected.

"Don't worry, Potter. I'm going to fix this right now." She barely looked at Tom the barkeeper as she was internally fuming. How dare Dumbledore! She had warned him of the Muggles' attitude, yet the old fool did not listen.

She tapped the necessary bricks with her wand, and to no surprise, a doorway started to form.

Without saying a word, the professor led them to Gringotts Bank where they would deal with the contract lying in the depths of the Potter vault.

"Potter, do you have your vault key?" She asked Harry as they stepped into the bank. Harry was surprised to see that goblins were walking back and forth the hall of Gringotts, carrying strange bags with them. A redhead stepped up to meet them.

"Hey, Harry!" Bill said cheerfully. "Are you here to make a withdrawal?" Upon seeing McGonagall, he offered his hand. "It's nice to meet you again, Professor McGonagall."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Weasley, but I'm afraid Mr. Potter will need to deal with something here," McGonagall replied.

"Oh! I must've been mistaken, who are you meeting today?" Bill asked her.

"We're here to see the Potter family account manager," McGonagall stated. "Can you bring us to him?"

Bill shook his head. "Bloodfang? 'Fraid I can't help you with that, but I can call Fleur to lead you there. You won't have to take a cart to get there, Professor," Bill added quickly after McGonagall made a face that suspiciously looked like pukig.

"Great, then, Mr. Weasley, where's Miss Delacour?"

"Fleur! Oh, here you are. Can you guide them to the Office of the Potter House Manager?" He asked the Veela witch.

Fleur nodded her head, "Sure."

Fleur took McGonagall's hand and started to walk to the elevators, much like the Ministry's. Before Harry followed them, he whispered to Bill, "Be careful, Bill. I have a suspicion that Fleur is being made a puppet. It's just a theory, I don't hope it would come to that. Can we talk about it later?"

Nodding at the strange request, Bill whispered back, "Meet me at the living room of 12, Grimmauld Place after this meeting."

As Harry walked to the elevator shaft, he felt all of the goblins' eyes were trained on him. It was a weird, not to mention scary, sensation. He knew it had nothing to do with the 'Chosen One' business and he doubted it was about the fact that he was with McGonagall, either. Whatever the reason, he needed to find out what was going on.

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland: July 25, 1996, 1000 hrs.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, was pacing in his office. Not because he was bored, but because a certain student found out about his plans.

He looked at one of the trinkets that were ticking. It had given him the impression that he was the best wizard in the world. He didn't know how, but it was so mesmerizing, yet so dangerous.

He had a clock that actually was a tracker keyed to Harry Potter. It was sort of similar to the clock at the Burrow. It allowed Dumbledore to know everywhere Harry went, what he was doing. The clock would point to Harry's whereabouts. Some examples were 'Gringotts', 'Privet Drive', and 'Burrow'. There was also another gadget he designed himself so that he could plant any thought or emotion in Harry's mind. He hid these gadgets whenever he invited Harry to his office as to not raise any suspicions of his manupilations.

Last year, he signed a contract with Molly Weasley saying Harry and Ginny had to marry before Ginny's sixth year started. Because Molly was blinded by her greed for money, she immediately agreed, because she knew of the Potter vaults and what they contain. Plus, she looked forward to Ginny's reaction when she would gain access to the Boy-Who-Lived and all the fame that awaited her daughter! Ginny would restore the former glory of the Weasley family. She knew Ginny would go to lavish parties, attend international balls, all because she was the wife of Harry Potter.

Molly envisioned Ginny ordering Harry around like a slave. The contract said under the special terms section, that the male participant (Harry) had to obey each and every order the female participant (Ginny) would give.

"I don't want any pesky children, Harry."

"Okay."

"Tie my shoes, Harry."

"Okay."

Now that Harry noticed Fleur Delacour's movement towards him, he would hopefully be more than friends with the Veela, and find out about the contract with Ginny, which would break his heart and also hopefully make him lose all hope in the world and surrender himself to Tom Riddle. Then Dumbledore would destroy all of Tom's Horcruxes and kill Tom himself, making sure the press, especially Rita Skeeter, would catch the footage of the great wizard Dumbledore defeating the Dark wizard Voldemort. He would get the glory all to himself, and everybody would forget the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, and what happened to him.

Unfortunately, Molly didn't see that coming, and she was still under the impression that Harry will be Ginny's slave.

Now that Harry was a bit aware of the plans Dumbledore laid out, he had to take the necessary actions.

"It's for the Greater Good, my boy..."

The Office of the House Potter Account Management, Gringotts Bank, London Branch: July 25, 1996: 1000 hrs.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." One of the goblins guarding the door to Bloodfang's office greeted him.

Harry bowed. "Fancy meeting you today, sir."

The goblin was amazed; Harry was among the few wizards that even respected the goblin race. Most of the wizards were ignorant of other magical creatures and thought of themselves as superiors.

"Good morning, wizard, the door to Bloodfang's office is right through here." Harry nodded gratefully, while McGonagall and Hermione did the same.

The goblin rapped on the door three times. The response was a muffled 'Come in', then the goblin opened the door and let the three in.

"Ah, Harry Potter. We meet at last." Bloodfang offered three seats to the lot, which they immediately sat on.

"So, Mr. Potter, what brings you here?" Bloodfang asked as the tea was served and the they were all comfortably seated.

McGonagall spoke up. "I'd like to have Mr. Potter checked for any magical core blocks that may be interfering with his powers."

"A magical block, yes. In fact, I see it myself. As a goblin of great power and high position, we are given the power to see through wizards and take a look at their magic," the goblin said.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall demanded.

"I do believe Mr. Potter's, unfortunately, has been blocked by Albus Dumbledore. Do you care to elaborate?" Bloodfang asked.

"Albus? Albus Dumbledore?" McGonagall shook her head in disbelief. She had suspicions about Dumbledore, that was a given, but she never knew he would step to great heights and risk the magical death of an important figure in the Wizarding society.

"The very same," Bloodfang said.

"He was raising Harry like a pig for slaughter!" McGonagall cried out.

"I'm afraid he was, Miss McGonagall."

"He must go to Azkaban! I mean, he committed an illegal move by placing a block on someone's core! Removing them could kill the person! He should go to jail! My goodness, if Potter is quite adept at dueling, how much more if his block is removed!"

"You have answered the mystery, McGonagall," Bloodfang said calmly, despite their situation. He knew his talking to humans would be a rare occurrence, but here he was, solving questions for the heir of the House he was managing the account for.

"W-What?" McGonagall yelped in surprise.

"Dumbledore is a glory-seeking bigot who could care less about his inferiors. We know why he placed the block on Mr. Potter's magical core, it was to keep himself in the spotlight. Once we gather enough evidence against Dumbledore, we may put him on trial against attempted murder. Blocking a core is tantamount to indirect murder. He would try m to plead 'not guilty', and this would be hard for us because of his influence of your world. We goblins, however, see through an old man's mask and see a hideous, manipulative monster within."

Harry spoke up for the first time in minutes. "Yesterday, sir, my friend Fleur acted strangely. It was something she would never do, since she was engaged to Bill Weasley. Could this be Dumbledore too?"

Bloodfang nodded. "Quick thinking, Mr. Potter. While we reserve the right to immediately get Dumbledore arrested and his magic and influence taken from him, we would have to investigate. It would be a shame if the so-called 'Leader of the Light' dabbled in the Dark Arts himself."c

"Let's get down to business, sir," Harry said. "I was told that a marriage contract was signed by my magical guardian, mostly Dumbledore. Can I see it for myself?"

Bloodfang nodded. "Why, of course, Mr. Potter. I have the contract in here somewhere. Let me look..." The goblin stood up. He was barely taller than your average goblin. He had the Potter coat of arms sewn on his left breast pocket. He was wearing a monocle, like Amelia Bones. He hd long fingers that looked scarily similar to claws. He was dressed like a proper goblin, but Harry didn't think there were improper goblins.

"I'll be right back, Mr. Potter."

Bloodfang left, then after several minutes, maybe even hours, he returned with parchment that looked barely a year old. "Here it is."

THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

OFFICIAL DOCUMENTATION

RE: Contract of Betrothal

Under the published laws of the Ministry of Magic, Great Britain, and the Wizengamot, specifically the Reasonable Intermarrying of Ancient Houses, this contract would marry one (1) Harry James E.(vans) Potter, and one (1) Ginevra Molly P.(rewett) Weasley.

Under special requests of the arranger, the two individuals must be married by or before August 23, 1996. Failure to do so will result in the loss of magical power, leading to being an equivalent of a Squib.

Quantum Unitum Est,

Signed,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (Magical Guardian)

Molly Prewett Weasley (Biological Mother)

Cornelius Oswald Fudge (Witness)

Harry stared on the piece of parchment in shock.


	3. The Last Wills and Testaments

"That contract was found by one of my cleaners before I went home," Bloodfang said, nodding to the paper. "I know you're upset, Harry. You're as upset as I was when I found out this was done without my knowledge or yours."

Harry shook his head. "Fudge hated Dumbledore. Why would he be witness to a bloody contract the old jerk's directly related to?"

"You do realize that Fudge is a money-and-fame-first politician, do you, Mr. Potter? Dumbledore used his advantage, his words. It can convince and fool many wizards. The best way to fight his weapon is to refuse to anything he says to entrance your mind. He did this many times already to weak wizards, those who looked up to him. His corrupted mind was convinced that he was on the side of everyone in the light. I pity the gullible pawns who had to sacrifice for the 'Greater Good'. Have you ever felt his presence in your mind before?"

He recounted all the times he met Dumbledore. Somehow Harry felt the tugging sensation at the back of his mind. Was that Dumbledore too? He couldn't be too sure. It wasn't as bad, or good, as all the mind-raping that Snape did on him, of course, on Dumbledore's orders.

"Dumbledore is very adept in the Mind Arts. He has mastered the art of stealthy Legilimency, which he can use to read someone's mind with barely any presence felt. He did this to almost everyone he considered as a threat to his reputation. Tom Marvolo Riddle was destined to be a good man who will unite the wizards and the Muggles. He was supposed to push anti-pureblood-purist laws that would arrest anyone found to have beliefs focused on purebloods, the ones who thought of Muggle-borns and half-bloods as filthy. Dumbledore's 'Greater Good' propaganda would eventually be discovered and eradicated. Dumbles made sure that Tom would become Dark. In fact, he meddled with Tom's mind. The Imperius curse. Only the strongest and most powerful wizards can throw an Imperius at a person and have no trace of it whatsoever. He forced Tom to create Horcruxes and kill millions of innocent people. Even your parents. Which reminds me. I have to show you something."

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England: July 25, 1996, 1100 hrs.

Molly Weasley stood before her Potions kit. It was a place only her, Ginny and Ron knew about. It was a rather curious secret hideout, as vials of potions lay in random places. Molly had a special cabinet where she stored all the Love Potions that she made for Harry.

It was funny how she got hold of the recipe of the Love Potion, really. She found Fred and George sleeping on their project one day, and only Ginny and Ron knew what happened.

Instead of throwing away the Love Potion, Molly actually used it as the base to the Love Potion she was going to lace on Harry's pumpkin juice starting tomorrow. She was mainly doing this to gain access to the Potter's family vault.

The Potter family vault was not a joke to begin with. The vault was twice the size of the average vault at Gringotts and it contained thrice as much gold as a normal family like the Lovegoods would be able to get. Molly had done this for her only daughter, and she hoped because she set Ginny up with her lifetime crush she would one day pay her back by giving her half of the contents of the Potter vault and she could get away from her stupid Muggle-loving husband. She was a pureblood, and she did not dare touch such filth like Arthur Weasley.

She barely got out of daydreaming what would happen when she got the gold from her daughter. She would barge into the Ministry, demanding that they make her marriage to Arthur null and void. If they refused, she would bribe them with about a thousand Galleons, and they would gladly follow like puppets.

She'd spend about one-eighth of her fortune going to different Wizarding face-lifting shops. Molly would have to look for them, but as long as she got all the extra fat in her she would give what she had to for the sake of not looking like a baby factory. She'd get a mansion built in the Carribean and get twelve others built around the world. If she looked at the Potter vault, she would still have about half a million of Galleons left to spare.

Cackling madly to herself, Molly Weasley sprinkled powdered moonstone on the cauldron that held the ticket to the money and fame she would get after her lovely daughter Ginny Weasley gets Harry Potter for herself.

Gringotts Bank, London, England: July 25, 1996, 1200 hrs.

A free Sirius Black walked to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He seemed to have rushed to the place. Every goblin looked at him for a moment, until he finally approached one of the tellers.

"Good afternoon, Lord Sirius Black. To what do we owe you the pleasure today?" The goblin greeted warmly. Though the House of Black didn't generally act friendly toward the goblins, in fact, they considered goblins as hostile beasts, they considered Sirius an exceptional exception. For one, Sirius didn't show any hints of disdain toward the goblin race, and second, he seemed to love the little creatures almost as much as he loved his dear Harry, who was basically his to-be-adopted son, if his mission today succeeded, along with another possible life-changer for the life of Harry Potter.

"Hello, Griphook!" Sirius smiled. He knew of this particular goblin who led Harry to his vaults a few years ago when he first went to Hogwarts. He was sad that he didn't get to take care of Harry as soon as James and Lily were murdered by Voldemort. He also made the mistake of lending Hagrid his flying bike, as the half-giant just used it to take the baby he was supposed to be taking care of, to Albus Dumbledore.

He vowed to make the man pay for the eleven years worth of torture while Harry lived under the roof of Number Four, Privet Drive.

"I'd like to see the Potters' last will and testament," Sirius said.

Griphook nodded. "The last will and testament of James and Lily Potter...I'll take you there as soon as the meeting is over."

"What meeting?" Sirius asked, curious.

"Right now the Potter account manager is dealing with some business that may not concern you," the goblin said calmly.

"Let me enlighten you," Griphook said amused. "In Bloodfang's office there is Harry Potter with Minerva McGonagall and Hermione Granger. Minerva claimed to be notified by Bloodfang that they found something in the Potter vault."

"What is that 'something' exactly?" Sirius asked.

"I believe it's about a marriage contract signed with Mr. Potter."

"I don't remember James or Lily, or both, sign a contract for Harry," said Sirius.

"Yeah, I personally hate marriage contracts."

"Of course, Griphook. It's forcing you to marry someone you don't even love, or scarily, know. I just hope my godson would take it gracefully."

A bell rang in Griphook's desk. "The meeting is over. Since you requested for Harry Potter, you can wait for him until he gets up here."

Sirius was curious; marriage contracts were something the Potters never signed. They saw it as a form of slavery at some point. He swore to himself that he would find out what the contract was about and why it was signed.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled as soon as he saw his godfather. He had some problems that he could only confide in the most trustable people in his life. Harry knew that telling his secrets to Sirius would mean that it would be safe and sound. Hell, he couldn't even tell Hermione, she would only be scared.

"Pup!" Sirius greeted, sweeping over to give Harry a huge hug. He missed moments like this. "What happened at the meeting?"

Harry grinned. "Turns out that the marriage contract is invalid because Dumbledore wasn't my legal magical guardian."

Sirius nodded. "I'm your real legal guardian, Harry. It would be null and void if it wasn't the real magical guardian who signed the conract."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"Yes. And I have something else to show you." Sirius took Harry's hand and motioned for McGonagall and Hermione to follow. Sirius talked to Griphook, who nodded and called some carts.

For the second time that day, Harry arrived at the office of Bloodfang. Griphook himself rapped on the knocker three times.

"Hello, Lord Black. What is the Potter heir doing here again?"

"We've come here for the Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter," Sirius stated confidently.

"Okay," Bloodfang said, taking a vial of what looked like Pensieve memories from a shelf. Sirius knew of the additional security that James and Lily chose for their last wills as Dumbledore may have tampered with the paper version of their will, which was still hidden in the depths of the records at the Ministry of Magic.

"You would know about this kind of last will, wouldn't you, Lord Black?" Bloodfang grinned, but it still scared Harry how much feral it looked, though unintentional.

"I would also like to view my Last Will and Testament after this," Sirius said, to everyone else in the room's shock.

"It's nothing, guys, I just want to know how sexy I look when I appear in my last will."

"Okay then," Griphook said. "After this."

Bloodfang broke the vial of memories and poured them on an empty Pensieve.

"We, James and Lily Potter, of sound mind and body, declare this to be our Last Will and Testament, revised at July 31, 1981.

"Before reciting our last will, I'd like our only son, Harry James Potter, to know that James and I will continue to love him even if we're with him the only way that we can be," Lily said.

"Sirius, if you're at my will reading today, please take care of our baby Harry and never, ever trust Dumbledore and let Harry stay with Lily's sister."

"I leave all the contents of the Evans vault to my son," Lily said. "I leave all jewelries in my vault, including my engagement and wedding ring, in hopes that Harry would find it beautiful and use it to propose to our daughter-in-law."

"I leave the contents of the Potter vault and all the Potter estates: Potter Manor, Potter Cottage, and all other properties of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter to my son, Harry," said James.

"We would like to offer Sirius one of the estates of House Potter, if he refuses to live at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and 100,000 Galleons to take care of Harry. We know it's too much, but please accept it," James and Lily said together.

"I leave Minerva McGonagall 10,000 Galleons for herself, Professor, please take it as compensation for all the headaches me and my friends caused," James continued.

"I'd also like to tell you that a couple of months ago, we found out that Lord Voldemort is not the evil wizard. Dumbledore manipulated him to become dark."

"We wish that Albus Dumbledore or one of his spies would not be at this will reading. Thank you for the time and good day to you all."

"All money left by James and Lily Potter will be transferred to the respective vaults," Bloodfang said. "Now I believe we'll have to go to Lord Black's vault."

One dizzying ride later, Griphook and the gang arrived at the door of the Black account manager. Griphook once more knocked three times, and the door opened to reveal a short goblin, dressed in a suit with the Black coat of arms on his left breast pocket.

"Hello, Lord Black," Sharpclaw, the Black account manager said. "What is your business here today?"

"I'd like to see my last will, please," replied Sirius.

The goblin grunted and reached into a rack of vials that said 'Pensieve memories'. The way the memories were projected were modified, so that they didn't need to dive into the Pensieve.

"I, Lord Sirius Black, of sound mind and body, declare this to be my last will and testament." The memory Sirius took a deep breath and said: "I give all of the Black properties to Harry Potter. I also give 10,000 Galleons to Minerva McGonagall because of the headaches caused by the Marauders. That's all, and don't trust Albus Dumbledore. Thank you, and have a good day."

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, England: July 25, 1996, 1800 hrs.

Two people sat on a table in the ancestral home of House Black. The people were quietly talking, as if afraid someone would overhear them.

"Should I tell her already?"

"No. You can leave her a child, then reveal it."

"That would be too cruel to her."

"It's the only way, I'm afraid."

"I have a question."

"Ask away."

"Did Death Obliviate everyone related to us, or just the ones in the Department of Mysteries?"

"He Obliviated everyone, of course. He can't stand to let the old man know that Death let us back to live temporarily."

"Okay. So what happens if she gets pregnant?"

"Death ensured that your unborn baby would rescue both of us, and hopefully stop him as well."

"So when she finds out she's pregnant, you tell her that you're really dead, and that Death only gave you a second chance at life to say goodbye to your friends. And her."

"I just didn't expect Death to associate with meddling with time is all."

"Whatever you say, pup. You must do it. Time is running out."

"How long do we still have to act like real people?"

"Just a few days."


	4. Time-Travel

"Harry, I have some good news!" Hermione squealed as Harry entered the room.

"What is it?" replied Harry.

"I'm pregnant! We're going to have a baby!"

Harry just nodded, smiling a bit.

"What's wrong?"

"It has been done," he said.

"What's been done, honey?"

"Hermione, goodbye. I'm leaving soon."

"What?" She said, outraged. "You can't leave me with our baby!"

"Listen, Hermione, I'm not leaving you. Make sure our child grows up like us. Please."

"But why are you leaving?" She cried.

"I'm not leaving. I'll never leave you, or McGonagall. Listen, Hermione. Death Obliviated all of you when I fell through the Veil of Death when I followed Sirius. He gave me a second chance at life, though tenporary, to say goodbye to you. Now our child will be destined to overthrow Dumbledore and any other Dark wizard."

With those words, Harry Potter walked forward and gave her a big kiss on the forehead. "You'll remember me, through him."

And Harry James Potter faded from life.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, England: March 30, 2011, 800 hrs.

It was a rare occasion in his life; peace.

Harrison Sirius Potter finally removed his earplugs as Ron and Hermione stopped yelling at each others' faces.

After being hit with another heavy hand by Ron, Hermione finally apologized and kissed Ron Weasley on the lips.

Of course this wasn't the end of the bitter bickering. His stepfather forbade his mother to mention anything about Harry Potter to him. Not that he didn't agree with Ron.

The young Ravenclaw knew that his real father had abandoned him and his mother after making her pregnant. His mother always told him one thing: You'll know when you can understand things. What should he understand about his current situation? All he saw was a stupid, no-good dad who left Hermione for good, and a very understanding mother who his dad took advantage of for having a kind heart.

An owl decided to pick this moment to deliver a letter to Ron.

"Ah-ha!" Ron smirked, picking up the letter. He took the envelope sealed with the Ministry seal and knocked the poor owl out.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Ronald Weasley would be seen packing his bags and casually strolling out of Number 12.

Harrison stared blankly at the living room window while watching Ron walk away from the apartment and finally vanished into nowhere. Flowers began to blossom, they did since the beginning of the month. As the whole Weasley family got ready to celebrate Uncle George and Fred's birthdays (they were only two days ahead!) Ron didn't care.

He would've counted himself lucky that Ron's jealousy and many other dislikable traits in him didn't get through Harrison's shield of righteousness. His mother would often warn him to try not to pick up the awful, disgusting characters that his stepfather seemed to have since he was young.

He was broken from the sort of trance he was in by feeling his mother's hands touch his unruly, black hair. She always claimed that he looked exactly like his dad without glasses. It was funny how he heard stories at Hogwarts that Potter boys always seemed to take after their father with barely any features from the mother side.

"Hi, Mum, I guess."

"That letter would only buy as a week, Harrison. If you want to see your real father, even Padfoot, you better cooperate."

"Padfoot?"

"Sirius Black was your father's godfather. He was one of the Marauders, a group of pranksters and troublemakers at Hogwarts about two generations ago."

"Mum, you planned for that letter to arrive?" Harrison asked, amazed.

"Even so that Ron would agree to it. I'm sure Professor Flitwick told you something about the Compulsion Charm."

"O-kay."

"Now, what do you know about Harry Potter?"

"Almost nothing, except all those things you mentioned about him."

"Listen here, little Harry."

"Really, Mum, you're now calling me like that filthy man who left you with me?" Harrison said angrily.

"Look, Harry didn't leave us, my dear. He made sure you would come to this world to save both him and Sirius. Do you think the Boy-Who-Lived would go down that easy on a fight? I don't think so."

"How sure is he that I would save his dusty arse?" Harrison countered bitterly.

"When Sirius fell through the Veil of Death, your father, in despair, followed him. Now, Harry was fifteen at that time. He was too young to die. Not when he could've had a bright future."

"So...he got you pregnant in fifth year?"

"Technically, sixth year. He claimed that Death sent him and Sirius back to the mortal world so that they can say goodbye properly."

"What happens next, then?"

"Next?" Hermione said. "Next, we send ourselves back in time before your father and I went to the Department of Mysteries with the hypocrites and Neville and Luna."

Harrison looked shocked. "I never knew you hated Ron so much."

"He wouldn't have given me a reason not to," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Your father, he was much better company. He cared for me. He knew when I was in trouble. He would do anything to save me."

"Hmm, time traveling?"

"Before the day he left, Harry left me a book. I kept it at first, as it was a constant reminder of him, but then I went cleaning the house one day and actually read the name of the book."

"And what does it say?" Harrison asked, his interest piqued.

"How to Welcome Back Time: A Guide to Efficient Time-Traveling," Hermione said. "I thought Harry might've been up to something risky. I don't know."

"Welp," Harrison said. "I'm guessing we're risking our lives for a man who left you alone with me."

"Would you stop criticizing your father!" Hermione said angrily. "Has Ron really drilled that far into your head that you hate Harry as much as he does!"

It was amazing; almost fifteen years worth of trying to endure the wrath that Hermione would unleash upon him lest she got very angry. Harrison knew of the 'thou-shalt-nots' when it came to his mother, but he clearly did not expect her to defend his dad so much.

He wanted to find out why his mother was so defensive. He hoped that his mother was right when she talked about Harry. It already seemed weird that Hermione was never angry at Harry for leaving her behind with an unborn baby.

"Okay," Harrison said carefully, putting together dozens of words and rearranging them, so it would somehow be more pleasing for Hermione to hear. "What's our plan, then?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you're straight to the point as your father." It was the first time Harrison would smile from hearing about his father. "Starting today, only if you allow it, can I call you Harry Jr.?"

He was delighted at that idea! He found it funny how his feelings toward his dad shifted from loathing to longing in about five seconds.

"Now, we would need to create a potion," Hermione said carefully, making sure she remembered what was written in the book. "We'd have to focus very hard on the timeline we wish to go back to, sort of like casting a Patronus charm," upon the look of puzzlement in Harry Jr.'s face, she added, "you'll learn about it when we go back."

Harry Jr., as a Ravenclaw, didn't care that much about intelligence, and it was strange he wasn't Sorted somewhere else. Almost instantly after hearing about the Marauders, his mindset changed from avoiding detention to going to detention.

"I'll warn you, Harry," Hermione looked her son in the eye, "Dumbledore will be alive. In our timeline Malfoy took over the entire Wizarding world. Dumbledore was alive in fifth year. We should maintain a low profile if ever he finds out."

Harry Jr. nodded. "Where exactly are we going to in the past?"

"The Room of Requirement," replied Hermione. "There was held the Dumbledore's Army meetings—"

"Dumbledore's Army?"

"We were supposed to name it Defense Association, but Ginevra demanded we make it Dumbledore's Army instead. Typical for a Dumbledore fan and a delusional Boy-Who-Lived fangirl and gold digger. By naming it after a supposed model of the Light, she figured it would draw Harry closer to her."

"Aunt Ginny?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"She shouldn't be considered as family," Hermione thought back to the time when she opened the book Harry gave her before parting. There was a folded piece of parchment she figured out later that Harry inserted there. "A few months ago I found this note in 'the book' saying Molly, Ginevra, Ronald and Percy must never be trusted."

Hermione, for the first time in years, felt safe when she thought about Ron. She felt safe because she was going back in time to once again meet the love of her life, the wizard whom she fell in love with since third year, and the father of her child, Harry Potter.

Harry Jr. felt excited that he would finally be able to see his dad. For years he had been fatherless, like his dad, who lost his parents at the age of one. He was happy because...it felt natural for him. Some say it was from his mother, but most claimed Harry Potter would have a radiant smile every time he felt loved. He would give much more radiant smiles to his dad.

"Now, let me get that book..."

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England: March 10, 2011, 1100 hrs.

Ron Weasley, with a week's worth of clothes packed in his traveling bag, carefully rang on the doorbell of Malfoy Manor. He remembered the fight he had with Hermione earlier.

She had been dropping hints about time-traveling in their argument. It could be merely an expression, but Ron, unlike his stupid, lazy self, thought that something was definitely up when Hermione kept mentioning time and again. She had her fair share of using a Time-Turner in their third year.

Inside Malfoy Manor, Draco received a message from one of his house-elves that somebody was in his doorstep. Looking at the clock nearby his throne-like chair, he saw that it was about noon, and whoever was in the doorstep must also want to eat lunch with him.

"Go, open the door," Draco ordered the house-elf.

Dobby miserably bowed and went to get the door. Once his 'Harry Potter sir' died, the Malfoy scion quickly reclaimed Dobby as the family house-elf.

Dobby had been seriously hoping it wasn't either Molly, Ginevra, or Ronald Weasley. He never much enjoyed the visits from those hot-tempered redheads.

Dobby's hopes had been seriously crushed when he saw who was at the doorstep. Mentally facepalming, he opened the door and immediately Disapparated.

"Draco! Where are you!" Ron shouted, knowing that Malfoy was annoyed by someone not calling him 'Master'. Thirty seconds later, an angry-looking blonde stormed from the living room, with a wand adorning his right hand.

"Weasley," Draco snarled. Ron had been one of the few brave-but-stupid followers of the 'Light'.

"Why so surprised, Draco?" Ron laughed.

"I told you not to call me by that name!" Draco yelled in his face.

Ron took a step back. "Yes, Master." He bowed carefully. "I bring some news."

Draco thought about it. "Hmm. Seems you're not as idiotic as you look."

Ron nodded. "I had a fight with my wife earlier..."

Draco snorted. "Typical."

"That's not it, Master," Ron insisted. "The Mudblood kept dropping clues about time travel."

"Interesting," the blonde yawned.

"Master, you know this could mean disaster, right? I mean, if the Mudblood goes back to the time when Potter was still alive, it could mean the end of your reign!"

"OH!" Draco was alarmed by that fact. "Let's stop them!"

"Wait, Master..." Ron stalled.

"WHAT!" Draco spat.

"You told me to sleepover here," Ron informed him.

"I never told you anything!" Draco yelled, with a hint of panic in his voice. "I'll bet you a thousand Galleons it was your stupid Mudblood wife who figured out that one! Let's go!"

The two wizards, with an adrenaline rush, Disapparated.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, England: March 30, 2011, 1115 hrs.

"That's it," Hermione said to her son, pouring in the final ingredient for the time-travel. "Now I just need to recite a chant, then we'll be ready to go back."

"What're we waiting for?" Let's do it!" Said Harry Jr.

"Okay," Hermione said. "It's not that simple. The chant is in Welsh, and we have to repeat it three times for it to work."

She flipped through the pages of the book, finally finding what she was looking for. "Here," she pointed. "It's what activates the 'spell'."

"Fel endid hudol," Hermione began, "rydyn ni, gyda'm holl bŵer a chryfder," Harry Jr. joined in, trying his best to pronounce the words, "trwy long, yn ychwanegu at y cyffwrdd olaf ar gyfer ein taith."

"Two more times," Hermione said.

Together, they recited, "Fel endid hudol, rydyn ni, gyda'm holl bŵer a chryfder, trwy long, yn ychwanegu at y cyffwrdd olaf ar gyfer ein taith."

Both heard the door being forced. It finally gave way.

"I'll go see what that was," Hermione said. "Continue."

Two figures walked up the stairs.

"Going somewhere, Mudblood?" Draco sneered, pointing his wand at Hermione.

"I knew you were up to something fishy," Ron continued. "Master, we have to arrest her!"

"Accio Handcuffs!" Draco said. A pair of magical handcuffs made its way to his hand.

"Fel endid hudol, rydyn ni..."

"What the hell is that?" Draco shouted.

"Harry, go... tell your father I love him," Hermione said weakly; it was an obvious attempt to warn her son to go.

"gyda'm holl bŵer a chryfder, trwy long..."

"Harry, finish the chant and go!" Hermione begged.

"Not so fast, Mudblood."

"yn ychwanegu at y cyffwrdd olaf ar gyfer ein taith!" Harry Jr. finished. "Mum, it's ready! Mum! Mum?"

"Harry, my son, go! I'll see you on the other side!"

"MUM!" Harry grabbed his wand and ran outside the room. He saw Draco and Ron holding both of Hermione's hands.

"Harry, please, tell your father I love him, now go!"

"RELASHIO!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at Hermione's wrists. "Mum, let's go!"

Harry pulled up Hermione from a crying mess and carried her to the room.

"MUM!"

"Thank you, my son, I really want to see your father again..."

"We're almost there, Mum."

"Take me to him..."

"Let's go!"

Harry, with all his strength, carried his mother and dropped her into the basin, and followed quickly after, leaving Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley behind.


	5. Dumbledore’s Army

**WARNING: This is back in time. March 30, 1996. By the way, it was the idea of Gime'SS.**

Harry Jr. shut his eyelids tight as he felt a serious urge to puke right now. The only things on his mind were how much longer they were to time travel, and wishing they would get to their destination as soon as possible.

Hermione was thinking along the same lines. Harry could've warned her about the consequences of doing the ritual.

Mother and son's train of thoughts were cut by the feeling of hitting ground, and the pain that came shortly after.

Harry Jr. looked around him as he dusted off his clothes; the seventh floor corridor. His mouth unhinged, he walked to a wall heavily guarded by Filch, and Dolores Umbridge.

The pink-clad High Inquisitor, strangely shorter than Harry Jr., was waiting impatiently while munching on a cookie. Filch was doing the same; only that his cookies were a bit softer than the crispy ones that Umbridge was chewing.

He silently pulled the Invisibility Cloak that his dad had allegedly given to his Mum and tiptoed to where Hermione landed.

"Mum," he whispered.

"March 30, 1996, 10:00 p.m.," Hermione said. "We reached our destination."

"Mum," whispered Harry Jr.

"I'm so excited to see my love," she giggled to herself.

"Mum!" He whisper-shouted. "Are you alright?"

"Wha—yes," was the reply.

"There are two people outside a wall. They seem to be waiting for something to happen, or someone to...come out of the wall?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Harry. Fourth year and you already figured out where the Room of Requirement. Now, let me talk to these people."

Hermione took Harry Jr.'s Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it inside her pocket. Holding her son's hand tightly, she stepped into the path the footprints led to.

"Miss Dolores Umbridge, it is my pleasure to meet you," Hermione said, sticking out her hand for Dolores to shake.

"Granger! You look... older?"

"I'm from the future, Dolores. Now, will you be my friend or not?"

"Your friend is most certainly not my friend!" Dolores spat.

"The father of my son."

"Exactly—what?"

"Dumbledore is my enemy. Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy and his blind followers. Ever heard of the saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'?"

"I believe I did," Dolores said, sticking out her hand and shaking Hermione's. "Now, we have some catching up to do."

Hermione nodded. "Inside that wall, is a secret room which will form itself to another room that the user requires at the moment," she explained. "Your best bet is that Dumbledore's Army is having a meeting in there. Right now they would be learning about Patronus charms, so it's not that deadly. You have to be careful though," Hermione shuddered, "because Ginny Weasley knows the Reductor Curse."

"Why the change of heart, Miss Granger?"

"It was almost Potter, believe it or not. However, to answer your question, I traveled in time with my son from a dark future where Tom Riddle is dead, and Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore's pet, is ruling most of the world."

"Tom Riddle?"

"Voldemort. It's another Dumbledore manipulation."

"He's really back."

"Yes," replied Hermione. "But he's not all that meets the eye. Tom Riddle was supposed to have a bright future, even though he was conceived from a love potion from a girl named Merope Gaunt who fell in love—"

"I-I don't really want to know his birth story right now," Dolores interrupted.

"I don't blame you. It's pretty messed up."

"Okay, then. Good thing I changed my mind about employing Malfoy and his friends in my Inquisitorial Squad," said Dolores.

"I'm just going to ask for a room where spell practice can be held, and big enough to hold an entire group of students having a meeting," Hermione said.

"Lead the way."

Hermione, Harry Jr., Dolores and Filch each took a step back as Hermione imagined the meeting room for Dumbledore's Army in fifth year. She was surprised as she still sharply remembered the room where they met a lot of times to 'overthrow' the Hogwarts dictator and bring back the 'good' Headmaster.

"Voila," said Hermione, turning the doorknob open and stepping inside. The room was full of young students practicing the Patronus charm that Harry taught the group. Harry himself was walking around the Room of Requirement, assisting those who could not do the spell properly.

A fake throat-clearing interrupted the meeting.

All members turned to the entrance of the Room of Requirement. Three seconds was all it took; then pandemonium erupted. Spells were fired everywhere, a particularly nasty Reductor from Ginny, who almost hit Hermione, who luckily ducked, and the spell sailed past her head.

"ENOUGH!"

The sea of spells stopped. Everyone got a good look at who was standing beside Hermione. There was Dolores Umbridge and Argus Filch, along with a fourth year kid that looked very similar to Harry.

"She's a traitor!" One member yelled, and it didn't take long for the others to follow his example.

Hermione cast a Silencing spell at everybody in the Room of Requirement and raised her hands up to get everyone's attention.

Hermione risked a look at Harry, and instantly felt like being giddy and in love again; her heart melted upon looking at his face. It showed betrayal, but strangely she found that cute, too. She felt like she herself was whisked back in time; she felt as if she was a young and carefree teenager once more, a mere child who joked with her friends.

"Hermione?" Harry said in disbelief.

"You're all wondering why I look so much older than the rest of you, here's why." Hermione risked another look at Harry, and this time, she took it seriously. "I'm from the future, a dark one where Draco Malfoy acts like he's the leader of the whole Wizarding world, and I've come here to prove he's wrong."

"Wait..." Ron pushed himself to the front of the Dumbledore's Army crowd. "Do you think we'll just believe you just like that? I'm sorry, madam, I don't think so. Who are you to tell us that you know the future?"

Hermione chuckled. "Whew. I didn't know you weren't so much of an idiot, Ronald."

"Hold on, woman!" This time it was Ginny. "Did you just call my brother an idiot? You don't get to say such things!"

Hermione shook her head. "Unless it's the truth, of course."

Ginny stomped her foot in frustration. "You know what people like you deserve?"

"Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I think I should receive a pat on the back for exposing the plans of Albus Dumbledore, and a kiss from my love," countered Hermione.

"Excuse me," Ron interrupted, "but you won't get a kiss from me unless you tell the truth."

"I did marry you at one point, Ronald, but it wasn't you that I truly loved—"

"GET TO THE POINT!" roared a voice that belonged to Harry.

"Okay, here's the point, Harry, we have a child together, and he wants to see you, and I also came here to warn you all about Dumbledore's real agenda."

"Dumbledore's real agenda; what about that?"

"Harry!" Ginny interrupted the conversation, "You can't trust that witch! She's obviously—"

"Shut up, Ginny, and let her speak."

"Okay. As I was saying, Dumbledore planned your whole life, Harry. Almost your entire life is a complete manipulation of the old man. And here's a shocker: Voldemort was supposed to be on our side. That is of course until Dumbledore meddled."

"Are you saying that the man who hunted me all my life is an ally of ours?" Harry coughed. "I don't buy that."

"If I really loved someone, then I won't lie to them!"

"Then it appears that you don't love me," Harry said scarily calmly. "Because Voldemort is really the enemy, and not Dumbledore. I'm calling the Aurors, we have an impostor."

Dolores stepped forward and crossed her arms. "The Ministry will not believe you."

"If you're truly on our side, Dolores, then you'd call the Aurors right now and demand they arrest this woman."

"I'm not calling the Aurors because Hermione is right," Dolores defended her newly acquired friend (to be honest, Hermione was more like her first friend ever) like her life depended on it.

"Then I'm telling the whole world that Voldemort is back, and Fudge sent you at Hogwarts to try to get me expelled," said Harry.

Dolores shook her head. "Fudge may have sent me to Hogwarts to get you expelled, but I had my own plans when I walked the Great Hall."

"And, pray tell, Dolores, why did you force me to carve this scar on my hand?"

Harry flipped his palm so that the backside of his hand can be seen by Dolores. Sure enough, the scar that the Blood Quill left as a souvenir was in full display for Dolores to see. Without hesitation, Dolores fell to her knees, her lips quivering with fear.

"May I ask how professional are you in acting?" Harry spat, while Dumbledore's Army laughed.

Hermione spoke again. "She's not acting, Harry, she's crying because she can't believe that she did this to her student. Again, I'm warning you all, Dumbledore is an enemy, and Voldemort was supposed to be the real Leader of the Light."

"Fine. Dumbledore's Army, tie this impostor up and we'll bring her to Gryffindor Common Room. If it's Polyjuice Potion, then the effects should wear off after a while."

Ginny and Cho Chang stepped forward and cast Incarcerous and Stupefy at the older Hermione, making her fall down and moan in despair too.

"Ron, Neville, let's carry her back to common room," spoke up Dean.

The three young men left the Room of Requirement, followed by the other Dumbledore's Army members, then eventually Filch, Dolores (who eventually rose up from her kneeling position) and Harry Jr.

Before Dolores left the Room of Requirement, Harry Jr. tugged at her sleeve. "Madam," he said.

Dolores looked at Harry Jr. with sympathy and nodded at him to start speaking.

"Do you have a way to help my Mum? I can't stand seeing her like that, and also Dad acting like she's not the real Hermione."

"Of course," Dolores said, patting Harry Jr.'s hair. "I have just the solution."

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, England: March 30, 2011, 2200 hrs.

Draco Malfoy stomped in frustration as Harrison and Hermione escaped his deathlike grip.

He was not usually someone who lets somebody go just like that. No, it wasn't his fault. It was that stupid half-blood son of Potter. Draco seriously hoped that the Ministry can investigate and go back in time to arrest Harrison, but the question is, 'Where did the two travel into?'

That question would never be answered until a year later...

Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Scotland: March 30, 1996, 2300 hrs.

Hermione was thrown into the comfy carpet of the Gryffindor Common Room. That was all she remembered before everything went black.

Silently regaining consciousness, Hermione groaned inaudibly and looked around her to see if anyone was still outside of the dormitories.

It turned out there was none.

And then she was wrong.

A certain pair of pranksters pulled off the Invisibility Cloak from their bodies. The next second, all the redheaded glory in the form of Fred and George Weasley stood before her. Or actually, they were crouched. Hermione saw that some Dumbledore's Army members put her behind one of the couches in the common room.

Looking down, she saw that she was still bound by the Incarcerous spells that Cho and Ginny had cast on her. She felt an unusual feeling in her mouth, like a certain something...

"Finite."

Fred pointed his wand at Hermione's throat and she felt relieved. George cut the ropes with a simple Diffindo and Hermione Granger-oh-wait-it's-supposed-to-be-Potter was set free.

"What the heck do you think you're doing!" Hermione whispered angrily.

One of the twins (she couldn't tell them apart) put a finger over her mouth. "Ron would usually go down to the common room at this time," he whispered very softly.

George (or maybe it was Fred?) grabbed her hand and pulled her up from her fetal position and draped the Cloak over her.

Fred (who she found out later to actually be George) pushed her forward to the boys' dormitories and up the stairs.


	6. Meetings

Hermione never knew what the boys' dormitories looked like; the fact that only the girls' dormitory stairs turned into slides was a bit of an unfair advantage for them.

Fred removed the Cloak from her body when they came to a stop at a door with the sign that said 'Fifth Year' on it. George cast Alohomora at the door, which easily opened.

Hermione's eyes widened at the noise of about five boys snoring very loudly. But if she did the maths, she would notice that only Ronald Weasley made the noise. She scrunched her nose up in disgust as one of Ron's snores timed with a suspicious toot that could only mean one thing.

Fred led her to Harry's four-poster bed, carefully making sure he didn't wake up his stupid brother or any of the other fifth year lions. George helped Hermione sit on the foot of Harry's bed.

Harry, in Hermione's opinion, was a lot more responsible than she gave him credit. She always thought of Harry's place as a bed hit by a hurricane, but now she was proven wrong. His Hogwarts uniform was sitting on top of his trunk. His glasses lay on the nightstand; it no longer had to be repaired because as soon as the Dursleys' heard about Sirius being Harry's godfather, they just acted like a bunch of scaredy-cats. Nonetheless, they were hypocrites; they would never dare tell any of their neighbors about the abnormal kid that lived with them.

Harry's wand was sticking out of his pillow, Hermione noted. She felt sorry for him; he was being paranoid of being found by one of the Death Eaters. The fact that they weren't the enemies made Hermione's heart sink heavier than it already was.

Harry himself was soundly asleep. He was notably smiling; it must be one of his less frequent happy dreams. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Harry was dreaming about; she almost can't resist the itch of pulling out her wand and casting Legilimens at Harry.

Sorry to wake you up, mate, thought Fred, but this is highly important.

Fred shook Harry awake, who grumbled and rest his hand under his pillow, where his wand was, but was alarmed when he found that it was not there.

"Wake up, Sleepyhead," George said, waving his hand over Harry's face.

"Go away, Seamus, I want to sleep more," groaned Harry.

"I have your wand, Harrykins," George jokingly said, and it was enough to snap Harry's eyes open.

"GEORGE? FRED? What the hell d'ya think you're doing at 'tis time of the night!" Harry yelled; fortunately, Hermione was quick to cast Muffliato at the curtains of Harry's bed, or else Ron would hear it and freak out.

"We have someone, Harry," Fred said.

"She's going to talk to you-"

"-and I bet she wants to kiss you too-"

"-maybe make love as well-"

"-oh, yeah, Harry, know-"

"-that you are lucky-"

"-to have Hermione love you," Fred finished, while smacking George's hand with a loud high-five.

Hermione looked at the twins funny while trying to look serious enough for Harry to take her seriously.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS, YOU DUNDERHEADS, WHAT THE-"

"We're not Sirius, Harry-"

"-I'm Fred-"

"-and he's Fred," George said with a grin.

"Okay," Harry raised his hands up in surrender. "Now, will you perverts just stars at my half-naked body or will you get out of my bed?"

"Oh, no, no, no, Harry," Fred shook his head playfully.

"Hermione would like to tell you something," said George seriously (Harry didn't know the Weasley twins could hardly maintain a serious look on their faces; usually they reserved it for really special occasions).

"You're really buying it, aren't you?" Harry told the twins, annoyed that they believed in the lie that this impostor Hermione had wanted them to believe.

"Polyjuice wears off after an hour," Hermione said. "And even if we brewed it once, I'm not powerful enough to make it last for more than an hour."

Harry paused. If this Hermione was real, she'd definitely know about our little adventure in second year.

Harry had a genius idea not long after. There was one particular event that Hermiome might hate him for asking; but he won't stop asking until he gets what information he needs.

"If you really are Hermione," Harry began, "who did you turn into when we brewed Polyjuice once?"

Harry was sure that the impostor would just go into a rage and storm out of his room, but to his surprise, she answered, "I was supposed to turn into Millicent Bulstrode, but I used her cat's hair and turned into one instead."

"Next question: what is the form of my Patronus?"

"A stag, of course, like your dad's Animagus."

"How many turns did Dumbledore tell us when using the Time-Turner?"

"Three."

"How many Dementors attacked me last summer?"

"Two."

"What creature attacked you in first year?"

"A troll."

Harry froze. His mouth bobbed like a goldfish; he could barely think.

"It's you, Hermione!" He leaned forward very quickly and gave her a bone-crushing bear higuh.

Hermione gladly returned the hug, partially surprised. She knew of Harry's paranoia and felt very sad that he had to do this to her just because he didn't feel safe now that his supposed enemy was back. Truth be told, his real enemy had been beside him all along.

"So, where do we start?"

"Harry, Dumbledore has set you up with Ginny so that once Voldemort kills you, the Weasleys will inherit all the gold of House Potter. He wants you dead also because you were one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, something horrible he did under the influence of Dumbledore, of course."

"What the—"

"Remember the Dementor attack before your fifth year? That was Dumbledore, too. He paid Fudge to send two of those foul creatures from Azkaban just to get you to have negative feelings again. He knew that the Dementors couldn't Kiss you; he knows about your Patronus."

"It's been Dumbledore all along?" asked an astonished Harry.

"I know," she laughed bitterly. "It's pretty messed up, isn't it? That's why I came back in time to warn you all, there has been a backstabber in your life since you were born."

"I think it's time we plan back to counter his manipulations then," Harry said. "If we can convince Voldy to help us in our plan, we might just be able to be successful in the plan."

"Good idea, Harry," the twins said together, George handing back his wand.

"Let's go, Hermione," Fred said, tapping her wrist.

"No, Fred, I think I'll stay here tonight."

Harry was thankful the twins didn't wolf-whistle this time.

"Okay, then," George said.

"Goodbye, Harry!" Harry just waved at the duo of redheads that exited the fifth year dorms, and put his wand back under his pillow.

Riddle House, Little Hangleton, England: March 31, 1996, 2200 hrs.

The former home of the Riddle family was not a joke to begin with. Two years ago marked the murder of the occupants of the ancient-looking house, and the Muggle authorities couldn't place a finger over their deaths; as no plausible cause of death could be seen.

Now, the place was thriving with Death Eaters at every entrance; at least those who were not arrested by the Ministry following their master's downfall. (Scratch that. He made his prisoner Death Eaters escape early that year.) Most of the lights inside were opened; except for the sleeping rooms. Inside the house, were repaired furniture and structure. If someone looked from the outside, they wouldn't believe there was a whole army inside.

Voldemort himself was in the dining room of the house, thinking about what he should do next. Bellatrix Lestrange sat beside him, playing with her wand, basically just spinning the long stick around and around until Voldemort spoke up.

"Alright, my Death Eaters, it is time to show Dumbledore that Harry Potter is our ally. My trusted source," Voldemort looked at Severus Snape, "has told me that the old fool has intentionally led me to a Dark future. Now, you may tell me that we are dark, but I say that we are all under the control of Albus Dumbledore. Are we still? No more."

This caused murmuring among the inner circle. Lucius Malfoy looked nervously to Augustus Rookwood, who returned his fearful look.

"We have spies here," said Voldemort. "Spies for the 'Light side'. And his name is...

"Lucius Malfoy, stand up."

The blonde-haired Malfoy stood up, his feet already shaking, nervously putting his wand back to his cane. He couldn't look at Voldemort; if he did, Voldemort would read his mind immediately and know he was the one.

"What the hell, Lucius?" Voldemort stared at him intently. "Will you tell me and your friends of your offenses against us?"

Lucius shook his head. "I don't know what you are talking about, Master."

Voldemort stood up as well. "You and I well know that you and Rookwood are a spy for Dumbledore!"

"Master, I don't know-"

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Voldemort yelled. "You were supplying information to that old coot Dumbledore and your stupid bigot son! I knew from the start that you were never faithful with my cause! Get out of my face, you—"

Nothing more was needed to be said as Malfoy and Rookwood were stripped of their Mark, and to say that the accompanying pain that followed was painful would be an understatement. The two former Death Eaters gripped their left forearm like a lifeline, as their whole body was racked with stinging pain combined with being poured scalding hot water on. Smoke came out of their mouths and noses like the Hogwarts Express, except that one had hints of blonde. The dining room was about to turn into a full-blown steam room.

After thirteen seconds of screaming from two disgraced Death Eaters, the smoking cleared and there was barely any recognizable feature among the two men. There was a pile of ketchup-looking goo on the floor, one mixed with some pale-colored mustard, like a partially stirred mixture of mozarella and spaghetti sauce.

The Death Eaters' eyes bugged out at the sickly pile of vomit-inducing mess on the floor. The vaporized Dumbledore spies completely turned into some humanlike version of nacho dip.

Voldemort looked around the room, rounding up his followers' attention, and sat back down.

"Now that you all know what would happen if you ever defy me, I'd like to tell you that tonight, we will come to get Harry Potter, convince him about Dumbledore and his lies."

Severus piped up. "My Lord, I know for a fact that a pupil by the name of Hermione Granger came from the future to correct things that have gone wrong in her past life. I'd bet Harry already knows about the Dumbledore thing. He needs to be trained. His Potions performance has almost reached his idiotic friend's, scoring an all-time low of T if he takes his O.W.L.s right now. Choosing Divination is just pathetic, who needs telling the future when you have a lot more sensible classes? I think Dumbledore only hired Trelawney out of mercy when she prophesied about 'the one to defeat the Dark Lord', in reality I suspect he was scared about that."

Voldemort nodded gratefully at Severus. "Thank you for that intelligence, Severus; it will be a great help in getting Harry to our side if we told him about the ginger family only using him for money, and hopefully, it would mean he won't trust those freak redhead fools anymore."

"Sir," Severus interrupted, "only the harpy mother, the idiotic pig son and the slut daughter are to be hated."

Voldemort stood up again. "Are you telling me, Severus, that only about half of the ginger family is to be not trusted?"

"Yes, Master."

"I must commend you for your bravery, Severus. I promise you will get your reward when you most need it."

Voldemort once again round up his followers' attention.

"We will infiltrate Hogwarts without a sound; a simple Muffliato," he looked at Severus, who nodded, "and a Disillusionment Charm will keep us hidden in the shadows. Bellatrix and Severus have prepared Muggle devices that would work inside the wards of the castle. They're called walkie-talkies."

Bellatrix handed him one of the devices. Voldemort continued. "Your Marks aren't designed for communication through sound; they're only calling some of your friends to you. With this device, you can communicate to other Death Eaters by pressing a button, then speaking. Severus has tuned all of them to make it easier to connect."

The inner circle nodded in agreement.

Voldemort turned to Antonin Dolohov. "Make sure that the guards defend the base tightly. Don't let a single person pass the border line. Understood?"

"Yes, Master, Dolohov replied.

Voldemort took his wand and walkie-talkie. "Let us go. Meeting place is Hogsmeade."

Voldemort Disapparated immediately from the dining room, followed by the cracking sound, which was immediately followed by the rest of the inner circle.


	7. Voldy-Visit Time

The small town of Hogsmeade was silent after a rather busy day of serving Hogwarts students. Very few establishments were occupied; Madam Rosmerta's pub was closed, too.

Multiple cracking sounds pierced the atmosphere of silence as various Death Eaters appeared from nowhere. They looked around for a sign of Voldemort, who was nowhere to be found in the meeting place.

"Here," someone from behind them whispered. Dolohov turned to his feet and peeked into a secluded alley.

Voldemort was there. He looked like he was hiding; Dolohov had no idea.

"Dolohov, tell your colleagues to hide here."

Everybody else turned around, curious, to see who Dolohov was talking to.

"My friends, come here, there are patrols," warned Voldemort.

"Merlin, Master, I doubt there will be Aurors guarding this place at night, especially that they refuse to believe that you're back," Bellatrix said, walking to the alley, her fellow Death Eaters following silently.

"They're not Aurors, Bellatrix. Those patrols are the professors of Hogwarts themselves; there is McGonagall over there," he pointed out, "and I see Flitwick not far behind."

"How do they know we're here?" A voice beside him asked.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," Voldemort raised his left hand. "I did not know you were coming."

"Master, I went to base and found out you were not there. I was worried sick."

"Well, you should not now," Dolohov commented.

"Shut up, you two," interrupted Bellatrix.

"Okay. As I was saying, those professors do not know we're here. They're only making rounds."

"Should we stun 'em?"

"Only as a last resort. We could hope that Severus comes with them," Voldemort whispered.

"Master, I thought Severus came with us here?"

"He did, Bellatrix. Only that he ran in the opposite direction, to Hogwarts."

"Master, you know having a spy can be risky sometimes."

"I'd hate you if you did not take a risk at least once in your life," said Voldemort calmly.

"Oh, fine, Master, just—"

"I appreciate your worrying, Bellatrix, but you do not need to do that."

The group waited for the patrolling group to leave, staring at the rough ground of the Wizarding town.

After a few headache-inducing minutes (and probably some other aching parts of their anatomy, cough, butts, cough) the professor patrol group left Hogsmeade alone, clearing the Death Eaters' path to total destruction of Dumbledore and everything he messed up in his whole, stupid existence.

"Come, my friends; let us retrieve what is meant to be our ally."

No-one noticed another pair of feet stepping forward behind them, Disillusioned.

Entrance Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland: March 31, 1996, 2230 hrs.

Not a footstep was heard after the mysterious opening of the Hogwarts main entrance. Ten Death Eaters walked inside the gap that Bellatrix had provided them. Voldemort stayed outside, Disillusioned, waiting for anyone to pass by, so he could instantly warn the Death Eaters of another visitor.

When it seemed like nobody would follow them late in the night, he closed the door ever-so-gently and followed the plan that he had laid out for himself, making sure to tell his Death Eaters the same.

Bellatrix was positioned against a pillar, holding her wand in one hand and the walkie-talkie in another, scanning the surroundings, until hearing a voice from the device.

"Attention, everyone, Hogwarts is littered with security mirrors, which are being constantly monitored by none other than Albus Dumbledore. If somebody can knock him out, perhaps a Stupefy, to clear the coast, report."

Behind another column was Rodolphus and Dolohov, waiting for Voldemort's signal.

"Master, we will infiltrate Dumbledore's office and try to Stun him."

"Alright," the voice from the device said, "go get Severus instead."

"But, sir—"

"No buts, Dolohov, Lestrange. Severus will do it."

Severus was waiting outside the Great Hall, on standby for Voldemort's go signal.

"Severus, go to the Headmaster's Office."

"Right away, Master."

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland: March 31, 1996, 2245 hrs.

"Come in," a grandfatherly voice sounded, followed by the creaking of the door to the office. The office was littered with trinkets and metal instruments and whatnot, and at once Severus wondered how this man kept his sanity intact, when he had to do so many jobs.

"Good evening, Severus, take a seat," Dumbledore said kindly.

Severus eyed the bowl of lemon drops suspiciously. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered.

"No thanks, Albus," replied Severus.

Dumbledore pushed the bowl towards Severus. "Are you sure, Severus? I'm afraid I must insist; your life won't be complete if you don't eat them at least once in your life."

"I might try it some day, Albus," Severus said, closing his eyes, trying so hard not to get provoked.

Dumbledore merely pushed his bowl forward.

"I said no, Albus, now will you let that go?" Severus pulled his wand out.

"Are you threatening me, Severus?"

"Not threatening you, Albus; just knocking you out. Stupefy!"

"You think that will work, my boy?" Dumbledore asked sternly, his grandfatherly voice long gone.

"I just wanted to knock you out because you might see something that will give you a heart attack!" Severus said back.

"Forget that, Severus; do you know who defeated Gellert Grindelwald? I did!"

"Albus," interrupted Severus, "I do not think that your attitude right now will prove to be a good role model to the students of this school."

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, SEVERUS SNAPE! Listen, I'm the boss here! I bailed you out of Azkaban! I gave you a second chance! I gave you a chance to forget your Death Eater past and just be a normal man! And now; what's happened, eh?"

"What's happened, eh? Here's what, amigo, it's your stupid manipulation of me and my godson and the whole Wizarding world who blindly followed your stupid mouth that should be sewed shut, that's what!" Severus roared.

"Your godson is Draco Malfoy!" Dumbledore said in defense.

"It's all intent, Dumbledore, would you do something if you didn't mean it? Hell no, Dumbledore! Have you forgot your old ways? Did you just go back to the ways of your stupid-ass friend Grindelwald? The 'Greater Good'? Allegedly, of course. It's all with the words!"

"H-How?" Dumbledore stammered.

"Here's my story, Dumbledore, and it's not exaggerated, like yours—"

"Who said I exaggerated things? I don't do that!" he defended himself.

"Tell that to your dead sister!"

Immediately, Severus knew that he hit a soft spot. Dumbledore's knees wobbled, and he promptly fell down.

Severus knelt and pointed his wand at Dumbledore's temple and whispered, "Obliviate."

A voice came in from his walkie-talkie. "You done yet, idiot?"

Severus held the device to his mouth. "Just a confrontation is all. All clear."

Entrance Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland: March 31, 1996, 2250 hrs.

"Ya hear that, dunderheads? All clear! We're going parading!"

"Shut it, rookie," Dolohov snapped, "there could still be professors randomly lurking about."

"With Dumbledore out, who's there to watch us?"

"We have to still watch out for suspicious residents."

The group tiptoed to the staircases. Voldemort caught the shine of a Lumos charm, and knew they were screwed.

"Someone must've noticed Severus slipping into Dumbledore's office," Rodolphus said.

"Most likely," replied Voldemort. "Looks like we have to fight them off."

"Master, remember that the purpose of this mission is to stealthily extract Harry Potter from this stupid school—"

"I know, Bellatrix, but I see no other way. We can't possibly delay this now that we've come so far."

Dolohov spoke up. "I brought along something that might help."

"What is it?" Voldemort closed his eyes.

"It's called an Invisibility Cloak. Don't you know about those handy little things?"

Voldemort laughed at himself. "My friend, why haven't I thought of that? Bring it out, Dolohov!"

"Somebody's coming!" whispered one Death Eater.

Minerva McGonagall shone her wandlight upon the Death Eaters, and immediately her eyes widened.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Minerva hit a switch on the wall, and immediately an alarm that sounded more like an air raid rang. Voldemort and the group covered their ears in shock, while Minerva ran up the stairs eagerly.

Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland: 2255 hrs.

The portraits in the Gryffindor Common Room showed their annoyance and fear at the sound of their worst nightmare; Hogwarts under attack. Outside the window of the Common Room, Aurors on brooms started flying towards the castle, each one with a hit wizard behind them.

Though the Ministry still mistrusted the information from Harry that Voldemort was back, they wouldn't endanger hundreds of innocent students at Hogwarts School.

Professor McGonagall barged through the Fat Lady's portrait, coming to a full halt as all Gryffindor students were lined up at the front of the door. She raised her hands to silence the flock of nervous and terrified students. She addressed the whole crowd.

"Students, we are under attack. You would never believe who infiltrated us, but that doesn't matter anymore. The Hogwarts Express is waiting at Hogsmeade station. Aurors will get you there safely through broomsticks. Train leaves in five minutes. Wait for them to arrive."

Nervousness spread across the room like a tidal wave; students were whispering anxiously among each other. They exchanged looks of doom. They felt numb. They knew they weren't going to get out alive. What if it really was Voldemort? What if Harry Potter wasn't lying at all, and that their end might be any minute now? No one could think straight.

What exacerbated it was the ear-piercing terrified scream of the Fat Lady.

The portrait came down with a kick of great force from a Death Eater. Everybody knelt down, hands in the air, their faces looking at, clearing the way of the Death Eaters, to Harry Potter.

McGonagall turned around and fell down in a heartbeat.

"My friends! It's glad to see you tonight!" A voice said from the back of the crowd of Death Eaters. No one failed to recognize that voice. That same, snake-like voice that Harry told them was in most of his nightmares. The voice of...

Voldemort walked down the portrait hole, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Harry or Hermione. "Relax, my friends; you cooperate with us; no one gets hurt."

The hands stayed up in the air, and nothing happened for a second. Immediately after, though, all hands pointed at a messy black-haired young man at the back of the line.

Voldemort walked to the person the Gryffindors had pointed, and immediately said aloud, "BINGO!"

Voldemort grabbed Harry by the wrist. "Where's your friend Hermione?"

"Tom!" Harry took Voldemort's hand off his wrist and hugged Voldemort tightly.

"My friend!"

Someone grabbed a tomato from a nearby basket and tossed it at Harry, who turned around to see who had done it.

"Real brave for a weasel like you, Ronald 'Coward' Weasley," commented someone from behind Ron.

"Ay, Hermione, I'm glad to see you could come!" Voldemort said cheerfully. "Now, let's celebrate at base; we have to get out. Aurors from everywhere. They will intercept us in Hogwarts airspace, but if we can confuse them by pretending to be them, we can get out safely. Anyway, that was a quicker response than expected for someone like the Aurors We both know that we can't Apparate out of Hogwarts due to extensive charms. Only way we get out is by flying. Let's go."

They waved their hands over themselves, and instantly their appearances changed. Voldemort changed into Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror, while Bellatrix to Dawlish, and every Death Eater left dressed up like hit wizard.

"Accio Brooms!" All of them yelled, and brooms appeared out of nowhere, and they flew out of the nearest window.

Voldemort looked at the Gryffindors. "Obliviate."

He, too, flew out of the window.

Hogwarts Airspace, Scotland: March 31, 1996, 2300 hrs.

Six brooms appeared behind the Death Eaters.

"Mister Scrimgeour, you were not permitted to come with us! It's too dangerous!" One of the Aurors said over the air.

"I am well aware of that warning, Mister, but I had to rescue Harry Potter before it was too late," Voldemort yelled back.

"Sir, you do not have a permit to fly, too!" A second one said.

"Don't you think that I could at least practice flying my broom sometimes, you dumbass?" snapped Voldemort.

"Pardon us, sir, but we have to guide you to the ground. Please follow us."

"What the hell is wrong with you fools? I could handle this! Do you see Dawlish here?"

"I wish we could change this, sir, but it's Ministry protocol."

"Screw Ministry protocol!" Voldemort roared, and instantly flew away to the Riddle House. The Aurors tailed him closely, bumping the broom occasionally.

"We have permission to fire; execute!" One Auror said, and pressed a button on his broom, which transformed into a fully-fledged Muggle fighter jet.

"1...2...3...FIRE!"

Heat-seeking missiles were fired from the wings of the jets and made their way to Voldemort's fleet of brooms, who instantly responded by transforming into the same jets that were pursuing them.

"D'you think you're the only ones who prepared, you fools!" Bellatrix yelled.

"1...3...3..."

The lead Auror was never heard from again as a missile from Voldemort's fleet hit his jet. He came spiralling down the sky like twirling ice cream.

"Leader is down!"

"Report!"

"Base," Auror One coughed, "Lead Auror is K.I.A. Repeat, K.I.A."

"RETREAT!"

The Aurors flew away from Voldemort's fleet one by one.


	8. How to Rescue Innocent Redheads

The fleet of jets turned back to brooms as the danger ceased away. They turned left to the direction of the base of operations, keeping their eyes peeled for more pursuers.

Another broom materialized next to them. If it could go about the same speed of a fully-fledged fighter jet, then it was a pretty fast broom.

The anonymous person's ski mask remained on its face; but Harry could immediately tell who it was. The familiar tug at his senses, the very same one as the particularly stubborn witch in the Triwizard Tournament, the one that turned the heads of most males in the Great Hall and made them drool like nobody's business; the blonde French witch.

"Take off your mask, Miss Delacour!" Harry yelled at the mysterious masked figure who was following them.

The figure shook her head and sped to the front of the fleet.

"I need to speak with you, coward," she said, addressing Voldemort.

"We'll discuss this later, loser," sneered Voldemort.

"I'm impatient, coward," the girl said seriously.

"You know what? Screw this; we're talking about this when we get to land."

"I'll remember you said that," she remarked, then turned to Harry. "Nice try, Monsieur Potter, but I'm not Fleur."

"Lemme guess again," Harry thought for a moment.

"Forget it, you do not know me."

"I-I do! You're her mother!" Harry exclaimed.

The girl mocked a clapping sound. "I will show you something too, when we get down."

The rest of the ride went smooth; at least no more Aurors pursued them as they entered the area of Riddle House. Multiple Death Eaters were waiting outside as the fleet of brooms landed on the grass, and they cheered as soon as they saw Harry Potter and Hermione Granger with their master.

Someone pointed out the blonde Veela that touched down not very later than the others.

"Who is that girl?"

"That is none of your business," Apolline Delacour scoffed. She pulled a seemingly invisible fabric from her broom and appeared someone whom Harry did not appreciate Apolline for; she kidnapped the ginger whom he did not want to see after what Hermione revealed.

"I've noticed that my older daughter has been spending a lot of time with that eldest child of the poor family, so I'm taking this idiot hostage and force them to give me back my Fleur, and they're not getting this boy back until they give up my daughter."

Harry reacted first. "Are you sure that Ron is the best choice for a hostage? I noticed that his relationship with his family has been suffering recently."

"So what better way to make that harpy Molly cry than to take her son? It has worked for that Percy Weasley snob too."

"Doesn't always mean that they will take Ron back, though," replied Harry, hardly believing that he was once again in close proximity with the single boy he wanted to stay away from permanently, to avoid possibly being infected with his virus. Ron's idiocy was so bad that it became a virus waiting to infect someone really intelligent, cough, Hermione, cough.

"You will not dictate me," Apolline said. "This is my move, my risk. You're not telling me whether I will do this or not."

"We're not dictating you, Madame Delacour," Hermione interjected defiantly. "I'm only recommending a different approach for this whole 'hostage-taking' thing you're doing. Plus, British pure-blood laws dictate that taking a pure-blooded child by a 'subhuman magical creature' is illegal."

"Outrageous! That's bigotry!" Madame Delacour exclaimed in disgust.

"Madame, that's not just bigotry, that's racism. The British Ministry didn't want 'inhuman' creatures like Veela without their knowledge in Britain. However, the Wizengamot's views are completely against the Ministry—"

"Just quarantine that idiot!" Harry cried, pointing at the redheaded pile of stupidity that made him wonder what had he done to Fate that they put him with this bigot that literally had waves of dumbness rolling off of him.

"We will immediately do that after talking to Madame Delacour," Voldemort said, stepping forward.

"Fine, take that ginger idiot, I'm taking Fleur back myself." With those words, Madame Delacour mounted her broom and flew away.

"Where is she going? Follow her!" Harry gazed at the figure of Apolline as she shrank in size and blended in with the atmosphere.

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England: April 1, 1996, 0010 hrs.

The Wizarding home should be sound asleep at this time of night, but their situation was the complete opposite. Occupants were running downstairs to the unusual clock that showed the family's whereabouts.

And every person's eyes were trained on the shortest hand, with the face of the youngest male child pointing at 'mortal peril'.

However, one blonde girl remained calm and asked the guy beside her, what exactly was going on that made the whole family panic like scared mice.

"Ron's in danger," Bill replied, staring intensely at the face of the single brother whom he did not want. There has been like, no limit in Ron's laziness, tall as the Everest; deep as the Pacific; infinite in amount. The boy wouldn't stop whining about how many brothers he had to live up to. Bill would know. Ron often talked to Harry about it when he thought Bill was not listening.

With his sloth aside, there were still a truckload of problems that came with the boy, including his jealousy. He'd shake his head at the part where Ron would complain about catching Hermione 'cheating on him' with his best mate, while Bill just shook his head, wondering when Ron would grow up. They weren't even dating, for Merlin's sake.

Then there was his flirting with Fleur. What the hell did he want with her? He very well knew that Fleur was his girlfriend, yet he continued to drool non-stop. Sure, she was a Veela, but she wasn't even a full one. These were the times he wished Harry was his brother instead; a guy who had self-control and respect of the opposite gender.

His musings about the smallest male Weasley just made his respect to Ron drop as low as the latter's Hogwarts grades, and that was saying something. He was quite relieved when his mother came squealing from two floors below about the 'family problem' that they 'had to solve as one'.

She knows it's a load of bull, thought Bill. Half of the family dislikes Ron and his habits.

Which was true. Fred and George always claimed that they were merely 'testing their pranks on a reliable medium', but they knew to themselves that it was only a codename for 'pissing off their dumb, baby brother'.

Just then, a crash reverberated outside the backyard, and all people inside rushed outside to see what the heck the racket was all about.

It was an unfamiliar craft that just made Arthur pumped. It was a Muggle military jet! He'd been waiting his whole life to see one of those, even in pictures. Seeing it personally, in his own home, no less, let's just say, saying 'happy' would be a great understatement.

Three more of them seemed to tail the crashed aircraft, and soon, they too landed on the garden, rolling on the flowers that Molly had been waiting to harvest.

"You!" Molly screeched angrily. "Those were my lovely flowers!"

Apolline got out of the pilot's seat. She coughed; she was definitely not going to try flying those things again.

Up in the sky, Harry looked at the crash site. "Um, guys, she crashed the jet—I knew her broom couldn't possibly be as fast as our fighter jets—it's the Burrow."

"Obviously it's the Burrow!" Bellatrix laughed in her own plane.

"What a great way to devastate Molly Weasley!" A new voice said.

The newcomer's voice was familiar with both Harry and Bellatrix—it was the funniest Black there ever could be—Regulus?

"Sweet escape there, Harry!" Sirius said, barking a contagious laugh.

"Sirius, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, but Sirius interrupted him, saying, "Hover your plane and parachute down there!*"

"Padfoot, this is a fighter jet, not a bloody chopper!"

"Funny, that's a VTOL aircraft you got with you, meaning it can hover," noted Sirius, pressing a key on his laptop's keyboard. Immediately their planes slowed down and hovered over the Burrow.

"Alright, Harry, I sent a helicopter to aid your transport back home," Sirius said. "Now soon as you eject out of your plane, pull the cord with the handle on your parachute."

"Parachute? What bloody parachute?"

"The one built in with your seat, silly," chuckled Sirius. "Now go press that button."

Harry, Bellatrix, Hermione and Rodolphus pressed simultaneously and they were thrown out of the cockpit, which stayed in the air for a good while.

Harry was facing the ground as he fell at a high speed, cold wind blowing against his face as he went down, down, down. He pulled the parachute at the last second before landing smoothly on a rose patch that Molly had also planted.

"HANDS UP!" Bellatrix yelled, pulling out her wand and pointing it at Molly, who acted in defense by doing the same.

"We come in peace," Hermione said, throwing her wand to the ground, raising two hands up in the air.

Apolline screeched aggressively, "Well I don't!"

"Madam, we take your daughter, we take the innocents, that's easy!" Hermione said obviously trying to calm down the very angry French mother.

A chopper came into view and its pilot zoomed onto the scene happening below him.

"Quite a scene down there, Snuffles," the pilot said.

"Midnight disturbance," Sirius agreed. "Apolline Delacour's fault. Crashed a fighter jet. Seemed disturbed. Any ideas?"

"I think she came here to get her daughter, if that makes any sense," Remus sighed.

"That makes total sense, Romulus!" Sirius yelled through the line. "She doesn't want Fleur hanging out with Bill. Now that's what makes no sense."

"Agreed. I'll see if I can get any closer."

The tension grew as the two factions fired insults at each other. A fight was barely contained, and if not, could result in the imprisonment of Bellatrix.

"Harry, get Fleur and Bill! I'm landing!"

Remus descended with the helicopter and Harry threw Bill and Fleur onboard, reassuring them that everything would be fine.

"ENGAGE THEM!" Molly snarled, firing the first of many spells that would be cast amongst the rivals.

"Crap! They're firing spells!" Remus said. "It'd be hard to dodge it once a spell hits our lift!"

"Only Arthur left, Remus!" Harry shouted, rushing to Mr. Weasley, who started to fire spells of his own for self-defense.

He was shocked, nonetheless. First, a fighter jet crashed into his house, now he's being taken to a hovering, wonderful aircraft? He felt lucky.

"All clear! Come aboard, and do it quick!" Harry waved at his comrades, who immediately stopped firing spells at their rival and rushed for the helicopter, which was now slightly above the ground.

"Go, go, go!"

They ran for the chopper. Harry went last, then the helicopter took off, speeding. He made sure no one was left behind, when something struck him.

Fleur's mother.

"Uh, guys, cover me, I think we forgot to rescue somebody."

"Who?" Hermione asked, not believing that they escaped the Weasleys' fury, although barely. They really should improve their duelling skills. Not that the DA was of no help, but it was more, defensive, and risking getting hurt more than getting the enemy hurt.

"Madam Delacour," Harry said anxiously, rubbing his palms together, as though it would help him calm down. "You need to take me down there, so I can rescue her."

"Harry, be selfish for once and think about yourself!" Remus yelled, obviously pissed off that his favorite Potter had shown his heroic side again.

"Yeah, what he said!" Bellatrix added, being almost no help in persuading Harry.

"I don't need you dying, after what happened to James," Remus said, taking the final push.

A sickening green beam of light made its way to the tail of the helicopter they were on.

"Avoid that curse!"

But Remus was too late in swinging out of the curse's way, as it ricocheted and made its way back to land, carrying doom with it, striking Fleur's mother in the torso.

"No. That did not just happen. No. No. No."

Harry faced a new problem in his life—keeping Apolline's death a secret from Fleur. His parents' death were kept secret from him, and he knew the feeling of intense dread when he found out the truth. Now that he faced the same problem with Fleur, he would have to choose, though he knew of the consequences either way.

Everybody was quiet on the flight back to the Riddle House, holding a moment of silence as a sign of respect for the dear departed.


	9. Aftermath

Riddle House, Little Hangleton, England: April 1, 1996, 0115 hrs.

Everyone waited in anticipation as the helicopter landed on the soft, wet grass of the backyard.

The helicopter's passengers and pilot alighted without a word and went straight inside the house, where Voldemort was waiting, evidently very pleased.

"How did it go, my friend?" Voldemort laughed, and signalled Bellatrix to take the rescued people in the guest bedroom to rest.

"Er, not so good..." Harry scratched his head. "There was one casualty."

"Hmm, that's bad. Who was it?"

Harry shook his head. "Fleur's mother."

"NOW that's definitely bad," Voldemort said, his eyes widening. "What else happened?"

"Nothing else too interesting, except that Apolline, in her rush to 'save' her daughter, crashed a jet to the Burrow."

"Dumb move," Voldemort nodded, humming. "We'll make sure the guests are entertained. You may go to rest now."

He sent off Harry to the master bedroom, where the large bed in the middle was taken out and replaced with bunk beds.

He opened his trunk where his Muggle clothes were (courtesy of Dudley), which surprisingly fit him well. Maybe it's Hermione, Harry thought, who else would do it?

Harry took off his glasses and his head hit the soft pillow.

Riddle House, Little Hangleton, England: April 1, 1996, 0630 hrs.

He stretched immediately after waking up. Looking around, he noted that Bellatrix and Hermione were still asleep. He walked along the path that the aroma of sausages and ham that was wafted to the bedroom.

Sniffing contentedly, Harry rushed downstairs where he saw Fleur cooking with Bill.

Looking around some more, he saw Voldemort having a cup of tea.

Shaking his head, Harry sat on the chair nearest to Voldemort and leaned forward.

"Less than a day here and you're already making them work?"

Voldemort laughed. "Can't you see the couple is having fun? Don't spoil it for them."

"It's painful to see that Fleur still doesn't know about her mother's death."

"She'll find out at the right time," replied Voldemort. "But for now, let her be."

"Good idea," Harry said simply.

"Now stop whining about letting them work immediately and let it go."

Harry stood up from his chair, heading to the backyard of the house, where Remus was standing alone, watching the sunrise peacefully. It was these times that Harry wished happened all of the time, but you can't get everything you want, he thought.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said peacefully.

"Says the guy who was in a group called 'the Marauders' when he was a child," Harry chuckled.

"It was not something I took as seriously as Sirius and James, those pranking things," he admitted. "I'm more of the neutral side, defending both the prankster and the victim."

"I can see that," Harry noted. "In fact, I saw you do it to Snape."

"No such things happened."

"Denial won't solve anything, Remus; what's done is done

Remus shook his head. "Where did you find out about that?"

"Snape's mind," said Harry simply. "I found it from there unintentionally."

"From where?"

"His mind. We were doing these fruitless Occlumency lessons then one day I tried to Protego his Legilimens spell when it backfired."

"Oh," Remus sighed. "I would've laughed if his thoughts weren't as serious as you said."

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "We're alright now, though, especially after Hermione allegedly talked Snape out of Dumbledore's arse and actually did some double agent work."

"I see," he nodded. "Now, what do you think about Dolores Umbridge?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how Hermione easily got bamboozled, but Umbridge's attitude doesn't seem legitimate to me."

"Nice observation, even for a fifteen-year-old," Remus commended him. "Anyway, that's the truth, according to Sirius."

"So Sirius is our hacker now."

"Well, sort of," Remus said. "He'll find any vulnerabilities in people's privacy, much as they want to hide it from him."

"And I thought Sirius was an idiot."

"That's what I thought too, until his real form appeared. But don't stop treating him the same. I mean, he doesn't like attention. Maybe you took after him."

"Well, at least I got something from my godfather..."

"I'll stop looking at things negatively if I were you," said Remus. "You have such low self-esteem. That, in no way, will help improve your situation now."

"I know that, Remus, it's just that—"

"So you know it," Remus stated. "How about you try weeding it out of your self?"

"I'll try," Harry said, finally giving in, "but it's not my fault if I still fail against Dumbles."

"Ah, but you won't fail," Remus chided. "Believe in yourself, and think positively."

"My Patronus?"

"That's a completely different thing. With the Patronus you still have to concentrate on one positive memory. Thinking positively just needs a stream of good thoughts and memories."

Harry put his hands up in surrender. "Now I'm getting a life lesson from a Marauder? Please."

"But it's going to affect the battle against Dumbledore, for sure."

"Fine..." Harry snapped his fingers. "I'll do it. For you."

"Well done, Harry," Remus plainly said, while patting his back, sighing contentedly. "Eventually it'll feel natural. Just let it sit for a few days and you'll be fine."

"You sure sound like a dentist who just pulled my tooth out and kept warning me about it and making me feel good."

Remus chuckled. "Am I sensing a personal disgust of dentists?"

"Ah, Merlin, no!" Harry said defiantly. "I'm not really one to hate a particular group of people, but there are certainly exceptions..."

"Like Dumbledore and the rest of the magical world, or I mean, his blind followers, which is technically still the rest of the magical world," Remus shook his head. "When are people going to realize what they're doing?"

"Probably when it's too late to change anything," Harry shook his head too, obviously disappointed with the lack of the world's autonomy within themselves; they did not need Dumbledore making decisions for them. Harry had expected wonder and honor, and he found bullies and idiots.

"That's the reason we should let them know as soon as possible, so that they could still get out of this mess."

Harry only nodded his head.

"You better eat breakfast, Harry," Remus stated, looking at his watch. "It's already seven in the morning."

"But when I left Bill and Fleur were still cooking."

"Oh...about Fleur," his tone dropped to a near whisper. "When are you going to tell her about it?"

"We'll tell her at the right time," Harry explained. "We won't do it suddenly. Maybe we could leave some clues for her to figure it out."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We could be the cause of her internal destruction when she finds out by herself."

"Unless you got any better ideas, we're sticking to this," Harry said firmly. "We'll send letters. Pretend as though Apolline was sent to prison for damaging a pure-blood's house."

"And when Fleur finds out about the truth?"

"She'll be able to handle it then," Harry said. "If the war goes right, then she may have some children with Bill. Everything a woman likes. Then it wouldn't impact her as much anymore."

"I'm starting to like this idea," said Remus, nodding. "Just make sure you don't screw this up or we're all screwed. By the way, have you seen Arthur?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure he'll come around."

"Okay," Remus said.

"Sure," Harry said. "I'll go now."

"Go," Remus said, waving his hand towards the house, "and eat some breakfast to get ready for the day."

As Harry walked away from Remus, he felt as though he scored another point against Dumbledore; scored another point in the war against the old man who made his whole childhood a lie.

He returned to the house at a slow pace, just relaxing and breathing in the cool morning breeze and the dew on the grass.

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School, Scotland: April 1, 1996, 0700 hrs.

"It was Severus, I swear it was Severus who did this to me!"

Four Healers were surrounding him, who were all busy trying to listen to whatever gibberish the man was saying.

"Stop him! He's coming to get me! Minerva!"

"Mr. Dumbledore, if you're going to say nothing but garbled words, by all means, don't speak anymore."

"Wha—what garbled words? I've been speaking clearly to you!"

"Mr. Dumbledore..." Healer Number One warned, "take a rest on the hospital wing bed. You obviously need some rest."

"McGonagall!"

"What?" The second healer exclaimed.

"Minerva McGonagall!"

All the Healers leaned ever so close to Dumbledore to understand what he was trying to say.

"M1275M! F0174F! R7495H!"

"Get them ASAP!" The lead Healer said.

A few minutes later, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Hagrid came to Dumbledore's office.

"Goodness me, if he still can't speak—"

"Help," said Dumbledore.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear what you said, Minerva," Flitwick said. "Clearly he still hasn't moved on with the fact that his Death Eater pet had betrayed him, and also can't speak properly yet."

Dumbledore tried again, "Minerva, I have to tell you something—"

Minerva addressed the Healers. "Please take Mr. Dumbledore to the Hospital Wing."

The four Healers carried Dumbledore's body to the Hospital Wing while he was flailing his hands, the Healers not knowing that Dumbledore did not wish to be confined with Madam Pomfrey. The last one faced McGonagall, saying, "Madam, your emotions are very stable now. That's a big improvement from last night."

McGonagall shook her head. "I don't need to be reminded how freaked out I was last night when You-Know-Who snatched Potter away."

The Healer left without a word, and Flitwick turned to McGonagall. "When did this happen?"

"Dumbledore passing out, you mean?"

"I know you'd be annoyed at me if I was referring to the 'other incident', so I'm talking about Dumbledore."

"Ah. We're not too sure," replied McGonagall. "I've been saying every conceivable password to his gargoyle, yet it wouldn't open."

"That took you about five hours, if my maths are correct," Flitwick stated. "Then when every password you could think of wouldn't work, you used a Reductor curse on it."

"Correct," said McGonagall.

"You knew then that Dumbledore was unconscious?"

"Yes."

"How come the Aurors didn't look for him?"

"Maybe," said McGonagall, "You-Know-Who specifically charmed them not to."

"He what!?"

"You know he's capable of such things, Filius. Don't pretend like he isn't."

"Clearly he has come a long way," said Flitwick, looking around the Headmaster's office. "He nearly surpassed his mentor."

After a few seconds of looking around and musing, Flitwick said, "It wouldn't hurt to join them, would it?"

"We could try," McGonagall agreed.

"I think we should try," Hagrid spoke for the first time.

"Good idea, Hagrid. Pack up; we're leaving shortly."

"I was sort of thinking 'next week'," Flitwick commented.

"Another week of trying to endure Dumbledore, I'm sure you don't want that," McGonagall exclaimed, trying to make a joke due to the serious mood that was killing her.

"We're leaving 'now'? As in 'now' now?"

"Not any later than today," McGonagall said.

"Wow, you're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Do I look like a joke to you, Filius?"

"No, Minerva, I'll be sure to do as you just said."

"That's good," McGonagall smiled. "Come on, hurry up, we've got a train to catch. The attack last night really caught the parents' attention, and they want to get their kids back home safely."

"Minerva, can't we Floo in there instead?"

"The Floo network is currently being monitored by multiple Aurors, so that's not an option anymore."

"What are we going to do about Hagrid?"

"Seriously, Filius? I'm sure in your profession as a Charms master you would know the exact spell when it comes to shrinking a half-giant like our friend here."

"Uh, sure," said Flitwick, turning around to the exit of the office. "I've got a trunk to fill up."

"Me too," said Hagrid.

"Don't spend too long," McGonagall shouted before exiting the office herself and going to her office to pack up.

McGonagall admitted to herself that she had a hidden agenda. She made a stopover at the Ravenclaw House Tower and answered the question in a bored tone; it appeared as though it were no challenge to her.

The stern professor walked up the flight of stairs to the fifth year girl's dormitory, where she found Luna Lovegood's belongings scattered around the bed. She shook her head; of course the sixth years were taking advantage of her kindness again. It made McGonagall wonder why Dumbledore hadn't pushed anti-bullying rules in the school, which should result in expulsion, but stupid Dumbledore is stupid Dumbledore, she thought to herself.

She flicked her wand effortlessly and all the things scattered around the bed made their way to the trunk, which was now opened.

McGonagall grabbed the stuffed trunk and walked out of the dormitory to her office to start preparing herself.

Ministry of Magic, London, England: April 1, 1996, 0750 hrs.

"Mr. Fudge, I am ready to report."

"Ah, good morning, Dolores! Take a seat."

The toad-looking woman took a seat as Cornelius Fudge wrote down on a piece of parchment.

"What have you in store for me?"

"I've got Potter's soft side," said Umbridge. "He already believed me in my drama when I pretended to feel awful for him when I punished him with a Blood Quill."

"And," Cornelius said, his chin resting on his fist, leaning forward, "have you used it exclusively on him?"

Umbridge gulped, "Yes, sir."

"Good!" Cornelius said happily. "May I check your teaching records?"

Umbridge handed forward a record book, hands shaking, unsure of what to come.

As Cornelius gripped it tight, Umbridge knew she was in big trouble. The remarks of other teachers would range from 'really awful' to 'this toad should retire'. She made a weird croaking sound and closed her eyes waiting for it.

"These remarks aren't exactly, positive, to say the least," Fudge said, examining the faculty's remarks. "One even says, 'You should not teach'. Now, what are we going to do about that?"

"Fire that teacher for lying against me," said Umbridge coldly.

After Fudge flipped through some more pages, he looked up then said, "If you want the teacher who lied against you, fired, then we must fire the whole staff."

"What exactly?"

"The whole staff, Dolores," Fudge said, getting angry. "These are all negative reviews!"

"Check Severus Snape, Cornelius, he only says the truth."

Cornelius angrily flipped the page to Severus Snape, and read the remarks. "He truly isn't lying; more negative remarks."

A chill ran through Umbridge's spine as she waited for the verdict.

"Miss Dolores Umbridge, clearly you aren't qualified to teach at a Wizarding school. Perhaps you'd do better in a Muggle school?"

"B-But I despise Muggles and Mudbloods!"

"So do I, Dolores, but now that Harry Potter is out of Hogwarts territory, I'm not touching it anymore."

"What!?"

"You heard me, Dolores, you're fired. Now get out of my office."

Stomping her way out of the Minister's office, she silently cursed all the teachers of Hogwarts and three specific students, Potter, Lovegood and Granger.

"You will pay," she growled to herself.


	10. Surprise Visit

Riddle House, Little Hangleton, England: April 1, 1996, 0830 hrs.

After eating a bountiful amount of breakfast, Harry walked out of the dining room with a full stomach. He headed straight for the broom closet where his Firebolt was. As he unlocked the door, someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Are you doing good so far here, Bill?"

"Doing good so far, Harry, this place is very amazing."

"I'm glad you liked it," Harry smiled. "What brings you here?"

"It's something really serious," Bills scratched his head.

"It better be not about Sirius," Harry shook his head, laughing.

"Um, it's really not about your godfather, Harry—"

"Something else. Great. I've been engaged in three full-on conversations today and I could really use some rest."

"How about," Bill took a suggestive move towards the broom closet, "we talk in the air?"

"Great idea, I was just thinking about flying," Harry smiled. "But first, come chase me!"

"Oh, sweet—"

Bill mounted the nearest broom, which was a Cleansweep Seven, and kicked off, making sure to lean forward as much as possible.

"Harry, this is something really important and I'd rather not talk to you at this speed! I was thinking five miles per hour!"

"Apologies, Bill, but I love doing this!" Harry sliced through the sky with amazing speed, even raising his hands up to really feel the cold air.

"Harry! No!" As he got used to flying the Cleansweep, Bill took a moment to stop chasing Harry; he really missed riding these things. The last time he rode one was when he was running an errand* for Gringotts.

He was sick of the same old view in the Burrow; seeing those Muggle residences scattered around the place warranted a change after almost all the time he was at their old house.

"Harry!"

"Wh–a–a–at?" Harry asked, laughing, almost in a bored tone, then finally slowing down to meet Bill about a hundred feet below.

"You really shouldn't torture me like that, you know," said Bill, once Harry was level with him. "But I hope you take me seriously once you hear what I want to say."

"I'm listening," said Harry intently.

"It's about, uh, Fleur," Bill scratched his head.

"Oh," Harry said, now fully interested in whatever Bill had to say. "It's about her mother, isn't it?"

"What? Hell, no! Wait—"

"Ssh, sh, shut up, shut up, sssh, keep your mouth shut, shut it," Harry said, panicking, hastily covering Bill's mouth.

"What was that?" Bill asked, confused.

"Please promise me not to tell Fleur about it," Harry begged. "I'll do anything you want me to, just don't tell her about it!"

"Anything?" Bill asked, smirking.

Harry noticed the smirk, then quickly added, "Well, not anything, but you know what I mean."

"Oh, good for you, I was about to make you take a dump in the middle of Hogsmeade," Bill said, laughing.

"You'll be more tempted to tell her once I leak the juicy details, so I'm not telling you anything," Harry said, making the safe decision.

"So, about what I wanted to tell you, about Fleur I mean," started Bill.

"Go ahead, say whatever you were itching to say just moments ago."

"I've noticed that Fleur has been very interested in you lately," Bill said. "and don't ask me why, because I don't know why, but she is."

"How did you find out about it?"

"She was muttering your name in her sleep," Bill looked down, shaking his head.

"Bill, is that honestly your only basis that your girlfriend is interested in another man?"

"Well, to be honest, it sounded stupid when you put it like that, but I have more proof. She was muttering your name and 'our children'."

"The actual heck?"

"It's entirely true; you know I won't lie to you, or lie about you."

"Actually, Bill, please lie about me when it's going to save you," Harry said.

"Oh, right," replied Bill. "So, do you believe me now?"

"Hmm, when does she say my name and 'our children'? Like, does she say my name then immediately after, the 'children' one?"

"They're near spontaneous," Bill said. "So, what's your guess?"

"My guess, Bill? It's about your love interest, and all you're letting me do is 'guess'? I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that."

"So I just let this continue then?"

"First you made me guess, and now you want to let it continue? Hell, no! Observe! Consult her! Bill! We have to take this to the ground. Your judgment may be clouded by the height in which we're currently talking."

As they went down slowly, as to avoid making Bill nauseous, Harry, looking at Bill's Cleansweep, commented, "By the way, your seat is a little expensive, Bill."

Once they were on the ground, Harry took the brooms without a word and put them back on the broom closet where they belonged. He signalled Bill inside the house in a room where no one could hear them.

Harry closed the door and faced Bill.

"So, where we left off. Like I was saying, you have to ask. When did she start feeling it? What possible reasons does she have for doing it?"

"Maybe you're right," said Bill, "but I need an educated guess right now."

"An educated guess, huh? Who else, of all the people you know, likes to control people, and thinks he's as good as Merlin?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Bill replied with a sigh.

"Exactly. That is my guess. Let me know what's yours?"

"Same as you, I guess."

"But guessing isn't enough, is it now, Bill? You have to investigate. It's not just accusing whoever the end of the finger is pointed to."

"I came for instant answers, Harry!" Bill said, exasperated.

"Unfortunately for you, that's not what you're getting from me," replied Harry calmly.

"Screw this!" Bill yelled. "Soon you're going to regret what you did!"

He stormed off, leaving Harry alone.

It was in this moment that Harry knew he was safe; safe that he hadn't confessed to Bill about what really happened just hours before, the tragic event that he didn't really wish to tell Fleur directly.

Hogwarts Express: April 1, 1996, 0900 hrs.

"Doing okay, Hagrid?"

"Yes, Hagrid, are you alright?"

The three teachers were packed inside a Hogwarts Express cabin. They were already near London, judging from the scenery change outside of the train. Hagrid was very uncomfortable being in the Express; he got used to his role as gamekeeper and enjoying the fresh air of Scotland, though his role as Care for Magical Creatures professor has reduced his time outdoors, since various useless staff meetings* were held throughout the three years of his teaching career.

"How longer do I have to endure this?"

"Don't worry, Hagrid, you'll be able to move freely once more in a couple of minutes. We're in London now, I think."

"Yes, Hagrid," McGonagall added. "It's just an effect of being shrunken for hours on end. We have a potion just for that, you know."

"Great news, innit?" Hagrid sighed. "The first thing I'll do is stretch."

"Definitely," Flitwick said with a smile.

The engine slowed down, and McGonagall sighed. They got here without being detected at least once, and they escaped Dumbledore! Even though they pulled what was thought to be undoable, McGonagall shuddered at the vision of Dumbledore walking up and down the halls, calling her like, "Deputy Headmistress? Where have you gone!?" or something along those lines.

The train halted to a full stop in King's Cross Station. McGonagall stood first and grabbed their trunks, being the only normal-sized creature in the cabin; the one undersized and the other one, technically, also undersized.

"Minerva, do you have an extra trunk?" Flitwick said, pointing to Luna Lovegood's trunk.

"I've brought another accomplice, Filius," replied McGonagall. "She's one of your students. I'm fairly sure you've heard and seen enough of the students bullying her?"

"The only Ravenclaw student I want to know more than just as a student, who is quite famous, in a bad way? Miss Lovegood?"

"Possible third wheel for Potter and Granger, don't you think? They'd make up the next Golden Trio, after that dumb Weasley messed up."

"Miss Lovegood, Minerva? The third wheel for the Golden Trio? Oh, please. She'd capture the attention of any man worthy of her."

"Okay, but Potter and Granger obviously look like a cute couple."

"But they're not a couple, right? Luna has potential."

McGonagall stopped unloading the trunks and looked at Flitwick. "Did you just say, in front of my face, that Lovegood will end up as the Mrs. Potter?"

"I didn't say anything about a Mrs. Potter, did I, Minerva? I was merely expressing my belief in them as a future match."

"Potter won't have any other partner as long as Granger lives," McGonagall said sternly.

"I'll be the judge of that," Flitwick said, smirking funnily, as if he, as a baby, crapped on his underwear in front of his parents.

"Goodness, Professor McGonagall, you forgot about me here!" Hagrid said, gasping for breath as he was desperate to get out of the torture tube and breathe normally again.

"Let's go fetch Luna," McGonagall said, moving towards the little Ravenclaw's cabin, which was almost always isolated.

Riddle House, Little Hangleton, England: April 1, 1996, 0900 hrs.

The silhouette of a young man entered the room Harry was in, and closed the door after getting in.

"For convenience's sake, I'll just call you 'Harrison', is that okay?" Harry said, upon recognizing the boy.

"Totally cool, Dad!"

"Alright," Harry said, desperate to get some alone time to guilt himself for causing the death of Mrs. Delacour, "now, spill what you have to spill."

"It's about your thinking power, actually."

"My so-called thinking power," Harry said. "You would perhaps perceive it as a paradox, but it has to do with the archway that sits in the middle of nowhere inside the Ministry."

"The Veil?" Harrison excitedly asked.

"Exactly. Now inside the Veil is a completely different world from the outside one. In the Veil rules a hooded figure with a scythe, known as Death, but it's completely different from how the outside world sees it. If you get shoved in it, you have a near zero chance of getting back to the living world; only if it's especially important, as in 'nuclear weapons explode everywhere' important. Death would evaluate your past life, and if you qualify, you are sent back to the living world, with everyone's memory of you erased. It's tedious, that's why it rarely ever happens in a millennium."

"Dad," Harrison said, "I asked how you got the intelligence like that?"

"I answered your question already, son," Harry shrugged.

"I still don't understand, can you explain it deeper?"

"Sirius and I have two existences; this one and the existence where you came from. Death would send us back to the time we chose, then bring us back to our old existence as near humans, to tell someone to travel back in time, for maximum effectiveness."

"Now you sound like advertising something in the Daily Prophet," laughed Harrison, but he saw the serious look in his father's eyes and stopped.

"Moving on. I know you're itching to ask me; why did I act so different when you first met me?"

"Exactly," replied the boy. "I was so curious about that."

"Well, let's just thank my relatives for that. I trained myself to act normal in school. When my cousin bullied me, I tried holding back my powers, but sometimes even that slipped, and I ended up on the ceiling one time. I was also told to be inferior to Dudley, which was hard at first, but I learned to do it. Which I carried on to my Hogwarts years."

"Woah, that's complicated!" Harrison exclaimed. "It must be so hard on you!"

"It is," Harry nodded. "However, you don't learn things overnight. Have I told you that one day in the Veil is only a second in this world? I must've been gone for at least an hour in this world. Sirius and I trained for years there. There was even a reunion between Sirius and your grandfather. We trained extensively about tactics in a cold war. We also studied various strategies in case all hell breaks loose and we're forced to combat them."

"That sounds cool and all, so you're ultra wise now?"

"Like a good Dumbledore mind," Harry agreed. "He could've made good history, but," he shrugged, "it is what it is."

"Thought it can be hard to accept, it is," Harrison nodded. "Why were you gone after breakfast? The cool-looking guy went outside too."

"You mean Bill? I'd rather not talk about him right now."

"Why?"

"Son," Harry said, "if I got a Galleon for every time you said 'why', I could've bought a new Firebolt."

"Sorry," Harrison looked down. "I'm just curious."

Just then someone opened the door and a voice which sounded like that of Bellatrix Lestrange, said, "Battle planning in thirty minutes. Meeting room, ground floor. Better be prepared."

"Sorry, kid, I gotta go," Harry patted his son's head. "You can go to Fleur if you want, talk about her sickly crush."

"W-who's her crush?" Harrison asked but Harry was gone. He stood up from his chair and got out of the room. He headed to the living room where Fleur would probably be, talking with Bill.

"Someone called for a meeting?" Harry asked a Death Eater who was guarding the door outside of the meeting room (he really should persuade his friend to change his name and the way he labeled his followers, which was the complete opposite of what they were trying to achieve here).

"Yes," the guy replied. "Discussions, strategies, whatever. Just get inside. It starts in about half an hour."

"Sure, just mind your own business," Harry shrugged and turned the doorknob open. Inside was a very spacious room capable of holding an entire birthday party with well over TONS of guests, and there were all sorts of instruments and dioramas in another area separated by a thin glass window. The room even had a drawing board, and Harry immediately suspected that this was not part of the original house at all.

There were only a few people inside, Harry noted. He sat down on one of the comfortable seats that compared to the softness of a couch in the Gryffindor common room. Snape was one of the few individuals already in the room. He looked at Harry, but said nothing.

Finally, the leader stepped inside the room and addressed the whole group.

"Today," he began, "will mark a pivotal and critical point in winning against our enemies. Today, we will plan how to defeat the true evil—"

"E-Excuse me," someone opened the door, "but you have a visitor outside, T-Tom."

"Aw," he pouted, "that was a good speech! I'm gonna welcome the visitors, my friends, could you please stay here?"

"No," Harry said standing up. "What if they're hostile?"

"Harry. First of all, this place is heavily warded against anyone with evil intent against us. And second, wouldn't one of my men recognize them already?"

Harry knew he had to accept defeat.

"I will fetch these guests and bring them here," Tom said, heading to the front porch.

Soft murmurs could be heard throughout the room, and it must've annoyed Snape, because he shouted in his cold usual voice, "Silence!"

Harry fell asleep for about fifteen minutes (how long would it take to accommodate these guests?) and Hermione, who was now sitting beside him, shook him awake.

"What—" he woke up, startled, and remembered, "Oh."

She whispered into his ear, "Look who's here."

Guess who.

There was no mistaking his Head of House with the signature pointed hat and green robes. McGonagall looked weary from all the stress that happened only overnight. The man that followed McGonagall also stood out (or rather not) because of his height. The Charms teacher...

"My friends, please welcome Professors McGonagall and Flitwick!"


End file.
